The Last Agrimar

[Kendra]

The Lady Rokhr

Dragons are among the oldest and wisest of races. They originate from a world unknown, their history so long and far gone that even they do not remember. For time immeasurable they have had the ability to travel between worlds, through time and space itself. Many would settle on worlds filled with life, to rest and hunt and simply survive. Most cared little for the lesser races, finding them merely interesting, amusing, or simply useless.

Then came the Lady Rokhr. She was a great, strong, majestic and powerful white dragon. She grew in knowledge and wisdom greater than that of her peers, and she took a great interest in the beings of the worlds they traveled. She found that in their short lives humans, elves, dwarves, and other sentient beings provided wondrous spectacles and lessons. Their lives were filled with passion.

Rokhr wished to learn more and did what no dragon before her had ever done. She deigned to take on the shape of her lesser and walk among them. She studied their growth, their life, their freedom. She was filled with compassion, and decided to create a world of her own to fill with the sentient inhabitants of the many worlds, a world over which she would stand as protector and cultivator.

The dragon brought together human, elf, dwarf, halfling, merfolk, centaur, minotaur, unicorn, griffon, goblin, and orc. She filled her world with countless plants and animals, carving a great variety of lands- forest, plains, deserts, swamps, bogs, oceans, lakes, rivers, mountains. And she taught them. She gave them technologies and magicks.

Those who followed her devoutly became known as the Order of Rokhr. The people worshiped her as their creator and protector. Already in her old age when she concocted her plan, she could not remain their protector for long. A few generations grew under her tutelage, and her world began to flow in harmony and order. Hers was a time of peace, but her wisdom and experience assured her that it would not always be so.

These many races would eventually war amongst themselves, but she knew all would remain balanced- the evil weighed equally with the good as her world tipped the scales in favor of equilibrium. There was only one thing that could threaten her creation, and that was her fellow dragons. Should one decide to toy with her world after she’d passed, she needed to place something there for protection.

And so, the Lady Rokhr provided her followers with her most cherished creation. Using great magic and the life of her own eggs, she created a strong race of Lesser dragons. These dragons were not as great and powerful as herself and her kin, hence the Lesser. They would not possess the ability to travel between worlds and it was their purpose to serve and protect the other races.

Her nest provided a great variety. They came in all colors- white, black, red, blue, green, yellow, silver, gold. They breathed ice, fire, lightning, acid, mist. Some were small and dumb as the animals. Few of these had a powerful breath and many sported feathers. Some were quite large, and possessed an intelligence equal to that of the unicorns and griffons. And a select few had the size and strength of the Lady Rokhr herself. These few were known as the Greater dragons, but still could not match the greatness of their creator, the Greatest.

As even further protection from another of these the Greatest dragons, the Lady Rokhr weaved a warp in space. This warp hid her world from view and would send any travelers through a hole in time.

Finally, the Lady Rokhr reached the end of her days. As she felt the life seeping from her bones, she joined her soul with the very planet, delving deep into its center, so that she might provide life and rejuvenation to the many races for years to come.

*****

"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 a crystalline masterpiece caught her eye.

Fascinated, she picked up the unique, rather lovely looking, figurine tenderly between her fingers and held it in front of her face to admire. It was a tiny statue of excellent workmanship, carved in the form of a silver dragon. It had sapphire claws and ruby eyes, the jewels alone suggesting it to be of great value. Surely no one would have left such a wonderful treasure on purpose. It had clearly been well cared for. "Someone must be missing you," Kendra said to the dragon, bringing up the edge of her tunic in an attempt to brush off the dust of the road. "I'll make sure you're well looked after, until we find your owner."

When she'd managed to remove all the dirt, Kendra gave the figure another thorough examination before nodding happily and placing the lost item 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 dragon in her pack.

Perhaps it had been lost as its owner was caught in a fight for his life, neither victim nor attacker noticing its fall from the sack as they focused on survival. No. Such a struggle would cause it to become stained or broken, as it was certainly a delicate creation.

Maybe a thief had filched it off a wealthy traveler and, not respecting the great value of such a craft, 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 coveted masterpiece of some great wizard traveling in disguise as some mere peasant. It would, of course, have been bespelled in order to summon the dragon depicted with a secret word. The wizard would also have cursed the item, so that any who stole it would bring bad fortune upon themselves, until the statue was returned. The figurine 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 statue. The wizard probably found the boy he was to pass the statue on to, and the boy, not believing the wizened man's story, would have tossed the item aside, too ignorant to attempt to fetch a price for it. 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 six 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 six 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 father 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 statue she’d happened upon the day before. “You’ve got some sharp claws there, haven’t you? If we’re going to be questing with Talon, I’m going to have to make sure you don’t get jostled too much.”

The young woman dived back into her sack and reemerged with a thick cloth which she used to wrap the dragon in a loose protective bundle. “There,” she said with a smile, giving the small figurine a pat as she slid it safely back into her pack. “It would work better if I actually had a case for you, but this’ll do for now. Maybe I can have a leatherworker make me one in the next town.”

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. The ring on the finger of her right hand twinkled like the dew droplets as it caught a ray of sun, and she glanced at it, her body suddenly going rigid.

Kendra pulled her hand up in front of her face, the ring very nearly touching her nose as she examined it closely. Centered in the ring was a round, clear jewel, with a silver dragon seemingly trapped within. The depicted dragon was silver, with ruby eyes and sapphire claws. The young woman’s jaw dropped in surprise as she realized the statue she’d found on the road matched her uncle’s ring.

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, as she lowered her hand back down to her side. A wide smile spread across her lips as she determined she must certainly be in for a wonderful escapade.

“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 figurine in her pack, slipped her thumbs into the straps 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 sides 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 jewel ye’ve got on yer finger 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.”

“Oh I don’t carry finery,” Kendra said innocently, loosening her grip on her bag and lightening her defensive stance, as Bart got clumsily to his feet and stood beside his leader. “And this is my ring. My uncle gave it to me. I do have a statue I found on the road though. It’s of the same dragon in my ring. Do you know who it belongs to?”

The man chuckled and looked over at his stumbling companion with a wink. “Sure. Sure. I know who it ‘longs to. Why don’t ye give it ‘ere, and I’ll be takin’ it off yer hands there.” 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.

The threat was lost on Kendra, and she merely tilted her head to the side curiously. “I’d really like to return it to its owner myself,” she replied, a bounce gathering in her feet as she remembered her musings about the little figurine’s origins. “If you could just point me in the right direction, that’d be wonderful! See, I’m on an adventure.” Kendra smiled, not in the least bit frightened.

The man let out a growl and reached forward, hand grasping air where Kendra’s hair had been as she ducked deftly aside. “Hey!” Kendra shouted, eyes going wide in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna have me that there ring, and yer statue whether you want to give ‘em to me or not!” The man glared at her, spreading his feet wide and bringing his broadsword down to his side, readying for a swing.

Kendra just looked between the two men in shock. “That… that’s stealing!”

“It ain’t stealin, it’s collectin,” the man replied, steadying himself as he inched closer to the young woman before him. “See, you walk around wearin somethin like that there ring, 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 with a definitive nod. “Now if you’ll excuse me…” She shouldered past Marv, swinging her arms with a skip in her step.

“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.

“I don’t take kindly to thieves,” she said, turning to face them and swinging her roughsack back around to settle comfortably against her back, “Or liars. You two aren’t ‘collecting’, you’re stealing. 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. Lots 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. Except, I’ve got this ring.” She held out her hand to show it off. “It was my uncles. He gave it to me before I left to journey on my own. He says it’s a family heirloom, whatever that means. I like it, because it’s got a dragon inside it. Jewelry in general though is pretty useless. 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 she remembered the dragon in her bag 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 statue up out of her roughsack, unwrapped it, 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 piece of work 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 statue. 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 figurine, 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 statue. I'll figure out who it belongs to on my own, thank you very much." Kendra picked the dragon back up from where she'd placed it on the counter and returned it to her bag, 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 statue," 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 statue."

"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 a dragon statue from my shelf of wares and tried to walk off with it!"

"Did not!"

"She did so. She has my figurine in her pouch, 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!"

“What do you say, youngling?” the injured guard said through gritted teeth, still rubbing his side. “You going to pay for that?”

“I’m not paying for anything! That’s MY statue! I didn’t steal it!” Kendra shouted, kicking and squirming in an attempt to free herself, but they had a good grip on her arms. “He’s a liar!”

The jeweler crossed his arms over his chest, giving Kendra a smug look when the guards weren’t looking and Kendra glared back at him. “Look! Look at his face! He knows it’s not his. He’s LYING! Stop! 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 figurine from her bag 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 statue 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 the large, hooded cloak.

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 hood. She tenderly took the edge of the cloth between two fingers and lifted it slightly, peeking underneath.

The first thing she noticed was a dark lock of hair, tumbling under the hat’s brim, held together by an intricately designed clasp looking like a large tree with the roots and branches intertwined along the edges. The clasp looked very familiar, and as she took in the rest of the man’s face, realization dawned on her.

“Talon!” she shouted in excitement, drawing the gazes of those in the adjoining cells. The man opened his eyes in shock, narrowing them as he took in Kendra’s exuberant smile and rolled over with a groan. He pulled his cloak around his shoulder, tipping the hood over his face as he turned his back to her.

“I thought I’d lost you!” Kendra continued gleefully, not seeming to notice his displeasure. “Where did you go? Well, here obviously. How silly of me. That was a stupid question. But how did you end up in jail?” She stopped, her whole body going rigidly frozen as if she’d suddenly discovered some conspiracy. “Were you framed, too?”

Talon let out an exasperated chuckle, and shook his head, the motion appearing funny to Kendra viewed from his backside with the cloak covering his features. “This has to be some kind of joke,” he said. “Lady Rokhr is amusing herself at my expense.” The last of his sentence was cut off with harried coughing, deep and phlegm-filled from the lungs.

“Talon?” Kendra peered curiously over his shoulder, standing on tip-toes and leaning over his side, her hair falling loosely around her face. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” Talon replied, voice ragged and laced with sarcasm. “I’m trapped in a smelly old dark stone cell with the most talkative woman in the world. Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Now that’s the spirit!” Kendra smiled and gave him a hearty slap on the back, resulting in another bought of coughing, but she didn’t seem to notice his distress. His sarcasm had been lost on her. “You’ve got quite the sense of adventure. That must be why you left in such a hurry this morning, huh? You couldn’t wait around for me to wake up, because you were filled with the rush of excitement. Excitement for a new day, a new adventure! Being locked up in a jail cell can be quite the adventure can’t it? It’s a challenge. I have to get out of here, and get that statue back.”

Talon rolled slowly over to face Kendra as the young woman skipped over to the cell door and slipped some tiny contraption out of her boot. The eyes of those in the adjoining cells seemed drawn by her action as well, several of them leaning against the bars in an attempt to get a better view of what she was doing. “You cannot just leave whenever it suits you,” Talon said softly. “That is the whole point of a jail cell.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kendra replied, looking over her shoulder to smile back at him cheekily, waving the little wiry contraption in her hand. “Watch me.”

The young woman moved quickly, her hands blurred in fluid motion though she had to bounce on her toes slightly, and in mere moments the door clicked open. The movement of the confining bars brought on an issuance of uproarious noise from the adjoining cells. “Oh, hush,” Kendra scolded, hands on her hips as she leaned in toward the hardened criminals. “I’m not letting you out.”

One scowled back at her and seemed about to snag the collar of her shirt when Talon appeared at her side and pushed her away from the bars. “Come, little one,” he said. “We must be off, before they bring the guards.”

Kendra huffed and turned on her heel, appearing to be in no hurry whatsoever. She came to the wall where her bag hung on a hook and looked up at it with a curious expression. It was far beyond her reach, and there was nothing she could use to climb up there. Before she could delay any longer, Talon snatched her bag and ushered her out the door.

*****

The Origin of the Turba Clan

Trystin Farvel, son of Marcus and Jillian Farvel, was a young halfling with a peculiar problem. While many halflings followed the path of the rogue or thief, this was due simply to their racial aptitude for this career. Dexterous hands, small stature, innate stealth, and deceivingly childlike appearance made them highly sought out candidates of many a thieves' guild. Trystin Farvel, however, was not a thief by choice.

From the time of his birth, Trystin was immeasurably drawn to shiny things. His parents thought this a good sign, guessing he would follow the path of a jewel maker – a fine and profitable business. Once Trystin could move about on his own two feet, things around the house began to disappear into his pockets and a small pile collecting under his pillow. Upon discovering his little horde, Marcus scolded the child and explained the importance of respecting others belongings.

Though Trystin was very obedient in all other matters and strived to live up to his father’s expectations, the poor halfling seemed unable to control his hands when faced with objects of interest. Jillian was first to sense his distress after repeated lectures from his father, and she took her son to a sage hoping to understand what might be causing this problem. Trystin was found to be cursed with the rare disease known as kleptomania. The sage explained that the child simply had no understanding of “personal” belongings and could not be taught no matter how hard anyone tried. He would take things without even realizing he had done so, objects of particular interest making it to his pile much like a dragon’s horde. Other objects he would later discover in his pockets with no knowledge of where he had acquired them.

When Jillian returned home, tear stricken, to explain this to her husband, Marcus was furious. Being an honorable halfling, he despised those who devoted themselves to the path of the thief, going so far as to cut himself off from his own brother a master of the thieves’ guild in the city of Kyrie. Marcus could not fathom anyone stealing without the knowledge that they had done so. He loved his son and devoted himself to trying to rid Trystin of his curse.

Marcus attempted to train the disease out of his son through fierce discipline to no avail. He called on physicians, mages, seers, wizards, and all manner of experts and magicians to try and cure the boy, but none could. There seemed to be no cure, but Marcus would not give up.

Trystin was stressed by his father’s obsession, and believing himself unworthy of his family’s love the child left at the young age of thirteen to free his parents from the burden he had become. The child worked job after job, unable to stay employed as he was accused of thievery and banditry. Trystin eventually made his way to Kyrie, where his uncle was quickly informed of his presence. Bitter toward Marcus and seeing this as a wonderful opportunity to gain a skilled thief and take an underhanded revenge, Bayern took it upon himself to bring Trystin into his guild.

When he was approached by a shady man in the streets, Trystin was so distraught and self-loathing that he cared not what happened to him anymore. Feeling himself good for nothing, the halfling did not believe he could be of any use to anyone. This man offered to train him in a position perfect for his skills. At first Trystin scoffed at the idea, but after some skilled persuasion he began to seize the man’s words.

He followed.

And so ensued Trystin’s training as a thief. The details of this are unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and so let us return to Marcus. Marcus Farvel loved his son dearly, and when Trystin left Marcus was heartbroken. Jillian, of course, was heartbroken as well as any mother should be, but her loss was simply that of a mother losing her child. Marcus’ loss was deeper and even more delicate than that. Recognizing the damage his obsession had done, Marcus took Trystin’s leave-taking very personally. He felt that he had driven his own son away and became so embittered by his actions that he became physically and mentally ill.

Many a physician was summoned to try and help Marcus recover, but it seemed that nothing could be done. When his brother, hearing of Marcus’ condition, offered to pay him a visit those close to Marcus thought this action could only help. Helping Marcus recover, however, was far from Bayern’s mind.

When Bayern informed Jillian that he knew the whereabouts of her son, she was thrilled and ushered him into Marcus’ room. The brothers conversed for some time, and when Bayern emerged – a twinkle in his eye – Marcus seemed rejuvenated and showed promising signs of recovery for the first time in the past three years. He was determined to set out on a journey to Coale where, he had been assured, he would find Trystin.

Trystin had been hired out to a group of scholars seeking a collection of ancient artifacts. He was to aid the party in acquiring the said artifacts, and their use of his skills would be purchased from the thieves’ guild for a percentage of their profits. These scholars were following a trail laid out by a series of historical tomes, and Coale was where their trail ended.

Again, I shall skip over the details of this endeavor to come to the point. The artifacts were eventually found to be contained within the horde of the ancient fire dragon, Naerdineonis. Marcus arrived on Coale as Trystin ventured into the cave of this very dragon. Trystin’s undertaking was a success, insomuch that he retrieved the items for his party. However, he was distracted by a small collection – a glass statuette of a silver dragon with sapphire eyes and ruby claws, a magnificent sword with an ornamentation wrapped artfully down the handle in a spiral resembling that same dragon, and lastly a silver ring embedded with a sapphire somehow mystically containing the image of this dragon. Trystin was captivated.

He examined each item – the ring ending up upon his finger, the statue in his pouch, and the sword at his side. Upon closer inspection, Trystin discovered an engraving on the sword. He carefully read the words, amazed as he did not know the language in which it was written. As he reached the last word the sword began to glow and there was a surge of energy that emanated from each of the dragon items.

Naerdineonis awoke.

Marcus was searching the town on the island of Coale for his son. He asked everyone he passed if they had seen the halfling but was having no success. Suddenly, there was an earthshaking roar from the far mountain and the ground seemed to give way beneath his feet. The city was in a panic. When Marcus rose to his feet, the sun was blotted from view by the presence of a ferocious fire dragon.

The actions that ensued I will not even attempt to cover in full detail as they are lost to me. Suffice it to say, by some means unknown to me, Trystin slipped away and Naerdineonis took his revenge upon the island. Amidst the great chaos and destruction, Marcus and Trystin were reunited. As Bayern had planned, Marcus was distraught to find his son following the path of a thief. However, Bayern did not anticipate Trystin’s reaction. The boy, instead of defensively standing by his decision and sending his father away, was likewise distraught to find that his life choice did not please his father. Having to put aside their differences for the time being, the two halflings worked together to sequester a means off the island and secretively away from the grasp of the enraged fire dragon.

Once safety had been reached, Trystin left his father’s side once again to complete his job and deliver the stolen artifacts to the home of the scholars now lost in the molten perils of Coale. This time their differences were resolved, and there was peace found between Marcus and Trystin.

There would never be peace, however, between Marcus and Bayern. Marcus vowed to have his brother slain for what he had done to his son. The intricacies of the feud between these brothers are of no concern for this tome. It is, however, the source of the spell resulting in the Turba clan. When Marcus finally succeeded in his endeavor to slay Bayern, he was emotionally broken. He went to the tower of a powerful wizard of ill report, expecting the wizard to slay him. This wizard, however, chose to disgrace Marcus even further by cursing all of Marcus’ prosperity to be plagued with the very disease that had started this course of events – kleptomania. The halflings of this lineage were dubbed the clan of Turba for the mischief they would cause.

*****

[Kendra]

As the pair slipped out of the city prison, there was a ruffling of feathers in the rafters, and with a cackle a large black raven alighted on Talon’s shoulder.

“Would you look at that,” Kendra commented, tilting her head to the side and watching the bird with interest. “He was waiting out here for you. Guess he’s not such an awful friend after all.”

Talon offered no comment- not even a smile, but Kendra was smiling wide enough to make up for his disinterest. “Come on!” she shouted, grasping Talon’s hand in an attempt to drag him toward the market. “We’ve got to get that statue back!”

The older man slipped his fingers from her grip and moved instead toward a dark alley away from the ominous building. “I am needed elsewhere, little one,” he replied. “Thank you for your help, but it would be best for us to part ways.” He reached out to hand the small woman her bag, but she only folded her arms across her chest with a pout as she skipped alongside him. Talon sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“Everyone always leaves me behind,” Kendra told him. “Which, really, it doesn’t bother me all that much. I guess I must annoy them or something, but I don’t mean to. I just get so excited. I love to travel. I love adventures. But every time I find a good adventure, I get left behind. Well, this is the first time I’ve found someone on an adventure twice!” She held up two fingers for emphasis, even leaning forward and looking up at her much taller companion on her tip-toes. “And you know what I think? I think its fate. I think Lady Rokhr wants us to travel together. And I think that if you try to leave me behind again, I’m just going to find you again. Just like I found that dragon statue.”

Talon’s exasperated expression suddenly changed, the strap of the sack nearly slipping from his fingers as he looked at Kendra with rapt interest, stopping in his tracks. “You said you’re after a dragon statue?” he asked.

“Yes,” Kendra replied impatiently. “I have to find its owner. I found it on the road before I bumped into you, and then the jeweler stole it from me. He said I was a thief, but that was a lie. He wanted me to pay him money to tell me information about the statue, but I wouldn’t do it, so he told the guards I took it from him. So now he has it, and I’m going to get it back, because it doesn’t belong to him.”

Talon frowned down at her, lost in contemplation. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe we are fated to travel together.”

“Why do you say that?” Kendra asked.

“Because that was my statue,” he answered.

Kendra’s jaw dropped. “Yours?! Why didn’t you say something sooner? I knew it! I knew I was meant to go on an adventure with you! Are you a wizard? Is it a magical statue? Are you on a quest to give it to a distant heir of the kingdom? Oh! Did you know, I have a ring with a dragon in it that looks just like the statue.” She held out her hands, realized the ring was not on any of her fingers, snatched her roughsack away from Talon and began rooting around inside it before emerging with the ring. She held it out to him with a wide grin on her face. “See?! It was my uncles. He gave it to me. Ooooh, you know what?! I wonder if it’s magical, too! I don’t know. I haven’t seen it do anything magical, but maybe that’s just because I don’t know how to work it. Maybe you have to be a wizard to make it work. Why didn’t you tell me you were a wizard?!”

Talon knelt down so quickly the raven took flight as he clamped a hand over Kendra’s mouth. “Shhhh,” he said, shoulders tense as he looked around the alley. “I’m not a wizard. Please. Just calm down. Show me where the statue is. We can get that back, and then I’ll explain everything.”

*****

“Right there,” Kendra pointed the jeweler’s stand out to Talon as people continued to bustle through the market streets. She could only catch glimpses of the shop through the legs of passing people and the occasional mule, but her companion was tall enough to see over most heads and spotted the glint of sparkling necklaces hanging from the vendor’s window. Kendra immediately set off toward her destination, but Talon pulled her back, grasping her pack and yanking her off her feet to be pulled up to his side.

“Hold on there, little one,” he said. “You cannot just take it back. He will have you thrown in jail again.”

“I’ll just tell him it’s your statue, silly,” Kendra replied, rolling her eyes.

Talon shook his head. “If he lied to get it from you, we cannot trust him to give it back just because I identify it as my own. He will set a high price for it if he knows how badly I want it back.”

Kendra crinkled her nose and scrunched up her lower lip in disgust. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “So what should we do?”

“I do not have any spare coin to waste buying it back from him,” Talon stated. “If I distract him, you can go around back and sneak it out.”

Kendra’s eyes widened. “You mean, steal it?”

“Of course not,” Talon said, sounding slightly exasperated. “He’s the one who stole it from you, but the guard’s won’t believe us. So we just have to get it back ourselves.”

“I guess…” she didn’t sound convinced.

“Look, are you an escaped convict?” Talon asked.

“Of course not!” Kendra demanded. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I was in there because he lied!”

“But you picked the lock of the jail cell and broke out,” Talon replied. “This is no different. The law is not always right.”

“Ohh,” Kendra drawled in understanding. “I get it. Alright, start distracting. I’ll be out in a flash.”

As if to prove her point, Kendra dashed under the legs of a passing horse, causing the animal to sidestep nervously as the rider watched her disappear into the crowd with a shake of his head, rubbing his mount’s neck and speaking softly to soothe the startled beast. Talon shook his head as well and made his way more carefully and courteously to the jeweler’s stall. He held a gloved hand in front of his shoulder, and the black bird stepped onto it. Whispering into the raven’s ear, he gave his hand a small toss, sending him into the air.

Kendra was nowhere to be seen, so he had to trust that she was already in position. Talon stopped at the vendor next to the jewelry stall and perused the wares, and his raven flew past him to land on the jeweler’s counter.

“Hey,” the jeweler called out, flapping his hands toward the bird. “Shoo, get out.”

The raven was undaunted, puffing out his feathers and cawing at the man, snapping at his fingers threateningly. He had to pull his hand back as the black beast snatched up a pearl necklace. “Hey!” the jeweler called more furtively, drawing the gazes of several passersby on the street. Talon turned his head with interest, allowing an expression of shocked surprise to cross his face.

The vendor reached out to grab the bird with both hands, but he deftly avoided the grasping attempt and took flight, setting the man into a panic. Instead of disappearing, the raven glided over to one of the many onlookers and settled the pearls down around a lovely neck. He then returned to the stall, this time taking up a bright diamond ring in his beak before taking off again, nimbly avoiding the jeweler’s swatting hands.

When Kendra appeared at Talon’s side, tapping his leg and pointing at her bag with a smile, he returned her smile and stepped over to the jeweler’s stall. The raven returned to snatch another piece of jewelry, and stopped just out of reach of the jeweler when Talon called out, “Luscious!”

A crowd had gathered, and all eyes turned to the newcomer, as Talon held out his hand. “You fool bird. What do you think you are doing?”

The raven dropped his newest acquirement into Talon’s hand and alighted on his shoulder, as his companion turned to the jeweler. “I’m so sorry,” he said, returning the item to the jewel vendor. “I don’t know what got into him. He usually has such wonderful manners.”

“Yes, well,” the jeweler seemed a bit put out, but the eyes of the crowd were on him and he seemed flustered under their gaze, clearly considering the results of upsetting many prospective customers by calling the guards. “As long as my items are returned…” Even as he spoke, the bearer of the necklace and the ring squeezed through the still growing crowd to hand the expensive valuables to their rightful owner, and the man could only nod his thanks. “Yes… no harm done. Thank you, for… stopping your animal.”

“Of course,” Talon replied. “I am sorry for the trouble he caused.”

“Just… get him out of here. I won’t have him snatching up my wares again.” The man looked rather flustered, and Talon just smiled.

“Of course,” he said, placing a couple small coins on the counter. “For your troubles.”

“Thank you.”

Talon nodded in apology and turned away. Once he’d made it past the crowd and prying eyes, Kendra appeared once again at his side, hopping up and down with joy. “That was wonderful!” she said, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Your bird is so smart! Luscious, you said? Oh, Luscious, I’m sorry I thought you were dumb. You’re not dumb at all. You were an amazing distraction. I loved it!”

The black bird puffed out the feathers of his chest proudly, causing Kendra’s smile to spread even wider.

“Do you have it?” Talon asked.

Kendra nodded and swung her bag around from her back, settling it on the ground in front of her. Opening the flap, she dug inside and drew up the small figurine. It sparkled brightly as it caught the light, and Talon’s eyes seemed to sparkle in tandem despite another bought of coughing that jostled the bird on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he smiled, as Kendra handed him the little dragon, her head tilted to the side curiously.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

The older man waved his hand dismissively and knelt down in front of her. “May I see your ring?”

Kendra held out her hands, this time finding that the ring sported her right. Talon held the figurine in one hand and her fingers in the other, examining the items. The small woman leaned her head in over his, peering down with him curiously. “They’re the same, aren’t they?” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Does it mean something important?”

“I’m not sure…” Talon muttered, his voice sounding distant. “Do you know anything of the Great Dragon War?” he asked.

Kendra rolled her eyes. “Who doesn’t? All the dragons were fighting among themselves, right? Some wanted to rule the other races, and others wanted to protect them. Vexi.. Vexi-trainy…” Kendra wrinkled her nose in thought.

“Vexitraenylaesk,” Talon supplied, bringing a wide smile to Kendra’s lips.

“Yeah, that one!” she said. “Well, he led the revolt against the bad dragons and sacrificed himself so that their leader could be sent to the abyss.”

Talon nodded, releasing Kendra’s hand and holding up the statue meaningfully, “Vexitraenylaesk was a silver dragon.”

It took Kendra a moment, but then her eyes widened in understanding, looking from the small figure, to her ring, to Talon with excitement. “So these are of him?!”

Talon nodded again.

“What does it mean?” Kendra asked.

The older man only shrugged, and Luscious ruffled his feathers with a little cackle. “I don’t know,” Talon replied. “But whatever it means, it is something my father was working on when they killed him.”

Kendra’s eyes opened even wider. “Really?! Who killed him? Is it a conspiracy? Did a great wizard make these to bring Vexi.. Vexitrain.. Vex back? Are the dragons going to war again?” She gasped, freezing in front of him. “Is that why you were thrown in jail? Are the other wizards trying to get the statue back from you? But how does that work with my ring? I got it from my uncle, and it’s been in my family for years. Where did you find the statue?”

Talon clamped a gloved hand over her mouth and shook his head. “Enough questions,” he hissed. “Please! And what is it with you and wizards? I told you. I’m not a wizard. Now. I don’t know what it means. I just know that my father was looking for someone named Thradris. If I can find him, we may find the answers to our questions.”

He removed his hand from the young woman’s mouth and she nodded dramatically. “So let’s find him!” She turned around to walk back into the market square, and Talon grabbed her by the collar once again.

“Not so fast,” he said, turning her around to face him. “We can’t just go around asking anyone. Someone here will know where Thradris is, but most people don’t like him. We have to be careful who we talk to about him.”

“Why?” Kendra asked. “How do you even know he’s here? What makes you so sure people don’t like him?”

“All my sources led me here,” Talon replied. “If we’re careful, we should be able to find him. I was thrown in jail for inquiring too carelessly into his whereabouts.”

“But, why?” Kendra repeated.

“Because, he’s a drow.”

*****

[Kendra]

The air was thick and heavy with the mix of scents and fumes from brewing potions. Even with windows open wide to let in the bright sun of midday, the heat only added to the assaulting cacophonous array as the fresh outside air seemed to avoid mingling with that in the hut. A cool breeze did nothing to lessen its strength, and it was as if the still, warm air presented a physical barrier.

The air alone, however, was not the only obstacle. One could hardly take a step without brushing across something green. The place was littered with plants, potted all along the floors, hanging from the ceiling and windows, and even crawling up the walls. Some felt dry and leafy, tickling the skin and creating the unsettling sensation of an insect creeping along ones neck. Others felt more like the slimy tendrils of a grasping sea creature. Some were soft as velvet, and others poked and jabbed as if prodding visitors along.

Few bothered to enter the hut, merely picking up their concoctions at the door. Yet the blind old potions master was quite at ease in her abode. There was nary a murmur of twig or leaf as she went about her work, the foliage and air that blocked intruders guiding her amongst the bubbling brews in her cauldrons and jars so well that newcomers often questioned the veracity of her blindness. Some even believed she pretended to be blind, a skilled bit of showmanship. However, the few who had seen her venture outside her little hut knew for certain it rendered her nearly helpless on unfamiliar ground.

Her ears, though, functioned perfectly, and so it was that she heard the harried cough of a traveler on the road. “That is the cough of death, young man,” her voice was hoarse and wrinkled as her old skin, and she brushed a hanging vine from her face as she approached her open doorway. “If you aren’t on your way to visit me, you will soon be on your way to visit loved-ones passed.”

“I knew you weren’t okay!” Piped the voice of an exuberant, feminine youth which must have matched the light, nearly silent footsteps which trailed the coughing young man. “She says you’re going to die, Talon! How will we find Thradris then? I bet she has a potion that can help. There’s all kinds of great healing potions, and maybe she knows something about Thradris, too.” There was a shifting of feet as the coughing slowly quieted and the young woman’s voice came from right in front of the potions master, her excited breath brushing the air. “His coughing just keeps getting worse and worse, but he keeps saying he’s okay. Last night, I think there was even blood on the cloth he used to wipe his mouth, but he wouldn’t let me see it! I told him he needs to see a healer, but he won’t. We just keep looking for Thradris, but I don’t know how he expects to find him when he says we can’t ask anyone directly about him either. It’s so silly. I—“

“That is quite enough, little one,” answered another voice, presumably Talon’s. It was young and strong, despite the coughing, and the words seemed to carry throughout the hut, sending a whisper through the varied foliage. “I’m not going to die.”

The smaller voice spoke up urgently, “You will if you don’t do something about that cough. I keep telling you—“

“Do you have any fenugreek?” the young man asked, cutting off his companion. His voice once again seemed to permeate the room, causing leaves to rustle with apparent interest. The old potions master smiled.

“An interesting choice,” she replied, her voice creaking with amusement as she sensed the young woman’s surprise in her sudden quiet. “Are you sure you would not prefer mullein or comfrey?”

“No. Fenugreek will do fine,” Talon answered.

“Have you already been using fenugreek?” the old woman questioned further, her interest piqued.

“Regularly,” came the reply along with another harried bout of coughing.

“And it is not working?” though she could not see it, the potions master knew the young man was glaring at her, as if his coughing was not evidence enough. She smiled. “It is good you have been using fenugreek and not some other simple cough suppressant, but if this continues you will soon be at death’s door. I suggest you try ephedra in its stead.”

Irritation was heavy in the reply, “I have not been poisoned, wise one, though I appreciate your concern. I just need more fenugreek.”

“No?” she questioned, not moving from her spot in the doorway, her knowing smile ever present. “Let me guess. You were stabbed in the chest, no? Punctured a lung? Fenugreek would seem the natural solution, and it will hold off any toxins for a time, but it is no cure. Now that the wound is healing, you’d best begin taking ephedra. Or perhaps elecampane if you need something stronger.”

For lack of sound, the young woman had almost been forgotten, but she spoke now her voice flowing with awe. “Yes, yes!” A slight thumping indicated that she must be hopping in place. “I found him that way! He had blood all over his chest. You know, my father was a healer and I tried to help him, but he insisted on taking care of it himself. I knew he wasn’t okay, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I didn’t think he’d been poisoned though, but you should know better than I would. Do you have a boneset potion? I bet that would help.”

The older woman chuckled. “A good amateur guess,” she said. “But boneset works best for ingested poisons, and the weapon which stabbed your friend clearly was not tipped with a strong poison or he would already be dead without a direct antidote. Ephedra or elecampane are preferred for injury to the lung and the removal of toxins.”

Talon sighed. “Perhaps you are right,” he muttered. “Very well. Ephedra, if you please.”

“Right away, young man,” the potions master gave the pair a nod and turned inside. When she returned, she held a bag of crushed leaves which she offered to Talon in exchange for a few coins. As their hands touched, the hanging vine curled around them slightly, tendrils tickling her flesh. “Druid,” she whispered. Though she could not see it, the young man held a steady gaze on her face- neither an affirmation nor denial of her words. The cackle of a raven which must have been settled on his shoulder was the only reply.

“Thank you,” Talon said softly as he turned away, the young woman following in his footsteps.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were taking fenugreek?” the small voice piped in. “I knew you weren’t okay. Why didn’t you say something? You just let me worry about you like that?”

“You said you were looking for someone?” the old potions master called out before the pair could walk too far. “I may be blind, but perhaps I could help? Many travelers frequent my door, as do many regulars in town. I may be able to point you in the right direction. What was his name?”

The pair returned to her door, the voice of the young woman continuing to flow like a trickling stream. “I told you we’d find him better if we asked directly! See?”

“Peace, little one,” the druid answered, clearly exasperated as though he’d had to repeat requests for her quiet frequently. He then turned to the older woman, stifling another cough as he spoke. “Do you know anyone who might know the whereabouts of Thradris? We hear tell that he lives in hermitage near this city, but no one seems to know exactly where. The people seem to distaste his presence, and information is not exactly forthcoming.”

“Thradris,” the old woman replied. “That is a name I hear quite regularly, though I have never met the man. Or elf, is it? It is difficult to keep up with the identifying terms based on appearances. People can be so quick to judge by appearances. Why just the other day this boy was trying to warn me that I would be assassinated if I kept letting that dark-skinned elf in my hut, but I doubt he would raise a weapon in anything but self-defense.”

“Wait,” Talon interrupted. “You know Thradris?”

“No,” cracked the potions master. “You weren’t listening. I’ve never met Thradris. I do, however, have the acquaintance of his son, young Melonzriel. He comes by my little hut regularly, not on my account though. I believe he is interested in my granddaughter, Valorie. He gets quite a bit of grief over it. There are many young men seeking her favor, and they certainly do not like the challenge he presents. A couple times, he was even run out of town. Never raised his sword, though he has the confident footing of a swordsman.”

Relief and excitement flooded into the young druid’s voice, enough to match the always exuberant woman by his side. “At last! I was beginning to feel I’d have to start searching the woods myself, and that could take ages. A drow who doesn’t want to be found usually isn’t found. When do you expect to see Melonzriel again?”

“Hmm…” the elderly woman pursed her lips in thought. “He is out in the garden with Valorie now, I believe. You are welcome to wait for him.”

“That would be most appreciated,” Talon put a hand on her shoulder in thanks, as she could not see a bow. “Perhaps we should get acquainted while we wait. You may call me Talon. The bird is Luscious, and my companion here is Kendra.”

“I am Olivia,” the older woman replied, “and I am always pleased to make the acquaintance of a druid. You must tell me why you are so eager to find this Thradris. Please, come inside.”

[Kendra]

A druid. Olivia had called Talon a druid. Twice. And he had not denied it. Normally, this would send Kendra into a flurry of questions, but Talon had been so very evasive in the two days they’d wandered this city looking for Thradris. He refused to tell her anything informative. So, Kendra had resorted to her imagination, observing Talon and concocting ideas about his past and purpose. Her only clues were the dragon statue and ring which clearly connected them somehow, the information Talon had slipped about his father being killed while looking for Thradris, and the fact that Talon seemed set on avoiding the militant forces within the city.

Until this most recent clue, that Talon was a druid, Kendra had been entertaining the notion that Talon was some vagabond’s son. His father had probably made some kind of deal with the drow and when unable to live up to his end of the bargain, he’d been killed. Or perhaps Talon’s father and Thradris had some sort of bloodpact which bound the drow to come to his aid, but when he came upon trouble and needed that aid, Thradris had been impossible to find. Despite Kendra’s vivid and creative imagination, she could not think of any way to put her uncle in any of these concoctions. Clearly, there had to be some connection between Uncle Vick and Talon’s father or her ring would not match his statue. Yet, how? Vick had never mentioned anything about a drow in any of his stories. Had he ever traveled with a druid, though? Kendra wasn’t sure, but she thought perhaps a druid had been mentioned in one of Vick’s adventures.

If her uncle and Talon’s father had known each other, perhaps there was some magical link connecting their families explaining why Kendra and Talon had also crossed paths. Surely, it was no coincidence. What were the chances that she would just happen to bump into the son of one of her uncle’s traveling companions? Not very high. Unless, the ring and statue were somehow linked- drawn to each other. Yet, there was still no feasible connection to a drow. Why was Talon so set on finding Thradris? Why avoid the authorities? She could think of no reason a druid would have for hiding from the law as druids typically followed scholarly pursuits.

Unless… Talon’s father could have been unraveling some deep, dark secret. Some secret Thradris had the answers to, which current powers did not want revealed. Perhaps the reason Thradris was so hard to find was because he was in hiding, and Talon’s father had been killed to keep him off the trail of this secret. Now that Talon had taken up the pursuit, he could end up dead if he wasn’t careful. Kendra’s eyes grew wide as she realized this was probably the most likely explanation and she turned to look at her companion with concern. Talon did not seem to notice her gaze, already deep in conversation with the potions master.

“My father was in the process of writing a tome,” Talon was explaining. “A history of Rokhr and its races. He was in the middle of his section on the elvin races when the lack of recorded information left him needing to seek out firsthand accounts. He was killed while looking for Thradris, an elf he seemed to believe would be the key to wrapping up his history.”

“Hmmm,” the blind woman seemed to be staring off into the distance, as if there was something she could see that the others could not. “I do not know much about Thradris before he lived here. Elves are so very long-lived. Who knows where his travels took him? But he has been a shadow of this city for as long as I can remember. Few have ever actually seen him, as he sticks to the woods. Though there are some who tell tales of how he saved them on the road. These aren’t widely shared, you know. Most hate the fact that a drow lives so close to their borders, but no one is brave enough to enter his wood and try to send him away. He would have remained nothing but a whisper to the people here if his son hadn’t decided to venture into town.”

“Melonzriel, you said?” Talon asked.

Olivia smiled. “Yes,” she replied. “Such a bright and curious lad. My granddaughter is quite taken with him, though she won’t admit it.”

“Thank you for letting us wait here for them,” Talon reached out to touch the leaves of a sage plant next to his seat, tension seeming to flow out of him as he became lost in the comfort of the surrounding greenery. “You’ve no idea what a relief it is to finally have a lead.”

Kendra found herself growing board with the conversation and the waiting. She had been right. Talon’s father had been killed seeking information. That knowledge seemed to make her current adventure much less exciting. The room seemed to stifle her with its heat and humidity, the many plants crowding in on her like a jungle of foliage. She began wandering around the little hut from plant to plant, testing her memory of those her father had told her about. Olivia and Talon paid her no mind as she stooped and reached, examining and sniffing to her heart’s content.

As Kendra leaned in to examine the inside of a large bromeliad, she thought she saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Was that a tail? Following the movement, Kendra found herself crawling between potted plants, ducking under a shelf as she delved into a dark corner of the room. Just beyond her was a door which appeared to connect to a greenhouse, an extension of the potion master’s supplies. Slipping into the greenhouse, she caught a glimpse of a dark furry tail. Intrigued, Kendra followed, slipping through the cracked door in her pursuit.

A streak rushed past her, making its way clear to the other side of the greenhouse. Kendra gave up crawling and dashed after it. Whatever she was following seemed to know she was close and sought to make its quick escape. Kendra only caught a glimpse of a large reddish cat chancing a peek over its shoulder before slipping through an opening between the boards of the floor and the glass wall. Though Kendra was small, she was not small enough to follow any further. She could only watch through the glass as the strange cat disappeared. It had been far too large to be a housecat, and it had looked rather exotic. Its tail had been short, its ears long with black tufts of fur, and its eyes a vivid gold. Did the cat belong to Olivia? Kendra couldn’t be sure.

However, in the direction of the cat’s disappearance, Kendra thought she saw movement in the trees. The potions hut was on the very edge of the city, the greenhouse testing the edge of the forested tree line. Anything could be out there in the woods. A loud knocking brought her attention back to the front door of the little hut, and she dashed back to her druid companion to see what was going on. As she reentered the hut, Kendra saw Olivia standing in the doorway speaking with someone. A customer, perhaps?

“We have reason to believe that you have a fugitive presently in your home,” came the sound of a deep authoritative voice. Kendra found herself freezing in place and trading a glance with Talon. A fugitive? Was that why Talon had been so prone to avoid the authorities? Why he’d been thrown in jail when first entering the town? Perhaps there was more excitement to this adventure yet.

“I highly doubt that, sir,” Olivia replied. “I am not one to harbor criminals.”

Kendra could see the eyes of the man at the door narrowing as he tried to look past the potions master and get a glimpse inside. “You let that dark elf creature frequent your home. Questionable company.”

“The company I keep is none of your business,” the old woman answered haughtily, maintaining a firm stance in front of her uniformed visitor.

Kendra motioned to Talon, trying to direct him toward the greenhouse. There had been a backdoor they could use to sneak away. The young druid nodded his understanding and signaled Luscious to be quiet as he attempted to slip after Kendra. The movement, however, caught the man’s eye.

“You there!” he shouted, shoving past the old woman who was no match for his burly strength. “Stop!”

Not two steps into the hut, the plants seemed to come alive. Vines twined around the man’s ankles and arms tripping him up and holding him back as the leaves by the greenhouse doorway began rustling fervently, forming together behind the druid as he exited, creating a wall-like barricade. Kendra stood in the middle of the greenhouse in awe and likely would have remained, if Talon had not snatched her hand to drag her away. “Come on!” he shouted, making a mad dash out the backdoor of the greenhouse. He glanced from side to side, fleetingly, trying to decide which direction to go when Kendra took the lead.
“This way!” she called, guiding him the direction she’d seen the cat depart.

The pair hurried into the woods, not stopping until they were certain they’d lost their pursuit. They found themselves in a small cove along the edge of a hill and surrounded by dense tree coverage. Talon cursed under his breath, Luscious taking off into the trees.

“What’s wrong?” Kendra asked.

“I was so close!” he shouted, now pacing the open ground. “Now, how will I find Thradris? We can’t go back to look for Melonzriel.”

“Calm down, Talon,” Kendra sighed. “We’ll find Thradris eventually. I mean, he has to live around here somewhere, right? He can’t be far if his son comes to the town all the time.”

“The longer we spend looking the more time they have to find me,” Talon replied. “They have more people, more resources. If we don’t hurry this will all be for naught.”

“They who?” Kendra asked.

“They. Them!” Talon shouted in exasperation, pointing back toward the town. “The people who killed my father!”

“The guards?” Kendra probed, trying to make sense of her companions ranting and sort out her own confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re not making any sense. Your father was just writing some silly book. Why would they want to kill him? Who is ‘they’ exactly, anyway? How do you know the city-guards are in on it? Why are you so afraid of them? You’re acting like a crazy person, and he said you were a fugitive. How do I know you didn’t do something that they should be chasing after you for?”

“They. I…” Talon stopped his pacing and looked down at the small woman who stood in front of him, tapping her foot on the ground with her arms crossed in front of her chest. The look on her face was, well patronizing. Talon sighed, raising a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Look. I don’t know who killed my father.”

“Then why so afraid of the guards?” Kendra asked.

“Because this is about much more than just a book,” Talon answered.

Intrigued, Kendra leaned forward. “And?”

“Your ring,” he said softly, appearing to think of a simplified explanation. “My statue. They aren’t the only artifacts crafted in Vex’s likeness.” There was a pause as Talon glanced searchingly at Kendra then seated himself on a fallen log. “It’s rumored that Thradris had a sword with a silver dragon carved in the hilt. When my father heard of it, he knew it sounded like something to match the statue which has been stored away in our vaults for decades. He sought to retrieve it, to save it with many other historically significant artifacts.”
A pained expression crossed Talon’s face as Kendra found herself entranced by his story. “While he was away looking for it, an entire army descended on the Druid Conclave. They were asking about the statue, and when the monks refused to give it to them…” Talon’s voice caught in his throat and Kendra knew.

“They killed them,” she said. Talon just looked away, but Kendra knew she was right.

“Everyone,” he replied. “Every last person. They killed them all. I was lucky enough to slip away with the statue, but everyone I know… All my friends, family. Dead. I don’t know why. Something big is happening, and Vex is at the center of it all. These artifacts… Someone is trying to get rid of them.”

“You don’t think?” Kendra’s eyes widened in shocked horror as she remembered the story about the Great Dragon War.

“Tyrignim,” Talon nodded.

“But he was banished to the abyss!” Kendra shouted.

“Maybe not,” Talon replied. “It’s possible that the druids were not successful in completing the rite of banishment, and I have no way of knowing. All the records were burned.”

“So, if Thradris has this sword…”

“Then, they’re hunting him down, too. Just as I’m sure they would have then traced the ring to you and come after your people.”

“Then we need to find Thradris!” Kendra jumped to her feet. “Come on!”

“We were just looking for Thradris, remember?” Talon sounded exasperated. “Melonzriel was our chance to get to him before they did. Now, we’ll never find him.”

“Never say never,” Kendra smiled mischievously. “We just have to be sneaky. Now, follow me.”

[Kendra]

((OOC: For those who have been reading up to this point, my plot has gone through some editing which makes some of the conversation between Talon and Kendra moot. The original has been edited accordingly, but I have not edited posts on here. Suffice it to say, Talon does not know much about what his father was working on or why someone is after him. He also assumes Thradris was the one who killed his father. And so, we continue...))

Kendra had a hard time keeping her mind on the task at hand. Everything was becoming so very exciting. Her very own adventure! And at the center of it all, a dragon! And not just any dragon, but one of the most well known dragons in history, Vex! Maybe, before everything was said and done, she would get the chance to ride a dragon? She smiled inwardly, a spring in her step as she hurried back toward the town. Right now, though, she had to help Talon find Melonzriel, who could lead them to Thradris. Then, maybe Kendra could ask him some questions about his sword before he and Talon had at each other. Maybe he’d know more than Talon did.

So distracted by her thoughts, Kendra nearly ran into a tree. She recovered though, stumbling backward and smiling up at Talon reassuringly. He was so focused on finding Thradris and avenging his father, but surely there was something more to this than that. It was a true mystery. Maybe she could find a way to get his mind off the past and enjoy this adventure for what it was.

They neared the edge of the town, and Kendra steered away from the potions hut. Olivia had said the dark elf and her granddaughter were at the garden, so Kendra hurried instead toward the garden path. She remembered passing it yesterday as she and Talon wandered about asking people if they knew anything about Thradris. To think they could have bumped into Melonzriel right there and no one had even mentioned him! When the cobblestone path at the edge of the tree line came into view, she stopped.

“What is it?” Talon asked.

Kendra turned around and frowned up at him in concentration. “You should probably disappear or something. It’s you that man is looking for. Not me. So I can walk into town unnoticed and find Meelon… Melens…” she sighed. Why did everyone have to have such difficult names? “Mel. I can find Mel without being noticed, but you need to be invisible now that he knows you’re in the city.”

Talon shook his head. “I told you I don’t know how many times. I’m not a wizard. I can’t disappear.”

“I know that,” Kendra replied, her exasperation seeming to match Talon’s. “But you’re a druid, right? That’s what Olivia said. And you made the plants move. So you can do magic, right?”

“Some,” Talon said softly. “Some magic. But I can’t disappear.”

“Fine, fine,” Kendra waved it off. “You’ll just have to wait here then. I’ll be back.”

As Kendra turned to enter the town, Talon placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”

The young woman tilted her head to the side curiously, as Talon seem wracked with indecision. “I guess it won’t hurt for you to see. Now that you know I’m a druid anyway. Just… don’t tell Melonzriel why we need to find his father. He won’t lead us to him if he knows.”

“What do you mean?”

Talon shushed her and held out his hand. His raven landed on his fingers, and the young druid whispered something in its ear. Luscious shifted from foot to foot, rustling his feathers with a cackle before alighting on Kendra’s shoulder. The young woman was surprised and looked about to ask something, but Talon held a finger up for quiet as he concentrated. She and the bird watched with interest, and at first nothing seemed to happen. Then Kendra heard a snapping pop, like bones breaking and Talon seemed to be shorter. She then noticed that his face seemed a bit furrier, his nose longer. As her eyes tried to adjust to the scene before her, she realized that he was changing form, shapeshifting into another creature entirely. She practically shrieked with delight as the druid sprouted a tail and landed on the ground before her with massive grey paws.

In only moments, Kendra found herself standing beside a large wolf. “Oh, Talon! This is wonderful, this is amazing, this is-“

A glare from the wolf was all it took. She knew Talon wished her to be quiet. “Sorry. Shutting up now.” The grin on her face, however, would not go away. “Ok. Let’s go find Mel.”

Kendra was so small and Talon’s wolf form so large that the two were nearly eye to eye as they entered the town gardens. With Luscious resting on her shoulder, Kendra appeared to be an animal tamer, or perhaps a circus performer. There were few in the gardens, but everyone they passed watched her curiously, causing Kendra’s smile to spread even wider. Kendra slowed as they approached a group of boys near the other end of the garden seemingly caught up in some commotion, and Talon’s ears perked. Kendra wished she could hear as well as he did, but then Talon nudged her forward with his nose and slipped behind a row of bushes. She took that as her cue to go investigate. As she drew closer, she could make out the different voices, and the source of the ruckus became clearer.

“Back off!” shouted a young woman, and one of the boys was shoved backward, tumbling as he tried to regain his footing and was caught by two of his companions. They righted him, and he brushed off his clothes facing the girl who had shoved him. She was clearly at a disadvantage, surrounded by a group of five boys that appeared to be under the leadership of the young man she’d shoved. The others made no move toward her, and she seemed unafraid as she glared at them all.

“What are you gonna do?” The apparent leader asked, sidling up next to her and placing an arm around her shoulder, which she summarily shrugged away. “Sic your elf on us? You think you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, don’t you? But he’s just waiting for the right moment. Waiting to take advantage of your trust. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“He’s not like that,” the girl answered confidently. “He’s different from you.” She started walking away, but two of the boys blocked her path as their leader snatched her hand.

“Of course he’s different,” the boy scoffed, apparently missing the girls implied insult- that he sought to take advantage of her trust. “He’s a night-elf,” He spat the word, like it was a curse. “He’s just trying to lure you in, deceive you. Don’t you get it? His heart’s as dark as his skin. Why do you trust him more than me, Valorie?”

With a swift jerk, she pulled her arm out of his grip. “Leave me alone!”

“Valorie, please,” came the reply. “Be reasonable. I just want to walk you home. Make sure you get there safe.”

She turned up her nose at him. “I can walk myself, thank you. It’s only just down the street.”

“And that elf might slip after you,” the boy pleaded.

“I’d feel safer with him walking me than with you, you jerk. Now tell your friends to stand aside,” Valorie demanded.

The boy’s lip curled in an almost hidden snarl as he raised a hand as if to hit her. Luscious took off from Kendra’s shoulder with a caw, but then fluttered backwards with a start as something buzzed past the boy’s ear. He shrieked and jumped to the side, looking around frantically to find an arrow embedded in the trunk of a tree and a touch of blood on his earlobe. Luscious remained in the air for a moment then settled on the shaft. The others did not seem to notice his presence, too interested in the source of the arrow. Kendra, also, found herself shocked into silence and stillness as she simply observed the scene before her.

“She said stand aside,” called a voice in the woods. “I’d do as she says, boys.”

The group started shifting and fidgeting, trying to find where the voice was coming from. The bloodied boy, however, was only angry. “Quit your shadow games, elf!” he shouted. “Come out here and face me, coward!”

There was a long silence, and then a cloaked figure materialized from the trees, a bow on his shoulder and a sword on his hip. His cowl was pulled low over his head, hiding his features in shadow, but the skin of his hands was black as night. “Leave Valorie alone, and we have no quarrel,” he said.

“Riel, I’m fine,” Valorie said. “You don’t need-“

“Like hell we have no quarrel!” the boy shouted, fuming. “You bloodied my ear!”

The dark elf did not budge, his voice untainted by emotion. “You were going to hit, Valorie,” he said. “Is that your idea of protection, Everett?”

“I… you…” he sputtered, rage and embarrassment turning his face red. “This is another one of your tricks! You set me up for this!”

“Did I?” the elf replied, amusement in his voice. “I have done nothing more than protect Valorie from harm. Even your friends here cannot deny that.”

“You know, he’s right,” one of the boys muttered uncertainly, cringing away from Everett as he spoke. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Everett shook his head, as if trying to rid his mind of the information that did not fit with his fixed impression of the situation. “He’s a night-elf! Don’t you get it? He’s evil. If you want to stand up for him, be my guest. See what it gets you. Now come on, Valorie-“

He moved to snatch Valorie’s hand again, and she twisted away from him. One of the other boys grabbed her from behind, and suddenly Melonzriel was in motion. There was a shout and one boy moved to block him. With a smooth, rolling motion, Riel simply stepped past him, sending the boy tumbling over himself without even touching him. A mere sidestep had placed him next to the boy instead of in front, and the boy became a victim of his own momentum. It had happened so fast and so smoothly Kendra had to blink and rub her eyes, which caused her to miss the next few steps as a spin of his cloak brought a second boy flat on his back and the elf was now next to Everett, sword at his throat.

“Let her go,” he whispered so softly Kendra almost didn’t hear it.

The boy that had grabbed Valorie from behind released his grip and turned and ran. His running seemed to work as a signal, sending a jolt into the others and they all fled, leaving only Valorie, Melonzriel, and Everett. “If you ever raise a hand to harm Valorie again, you will answer to me. Do you understand?” Riel said, softly, calmly.

Everett nodded ever so slightly, afraid that too much motion would bring his neck into contact with the blade. Without another word, Riel sheathed his sword.

“Riel, you didn’t have to-“ Valorie started, but the elf placed a finger on her lips.

“It’s alright,” he said. “You know I couldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

Valorie seemed to blush slightly, momentarily debating whether she should move closer or further from Riel. Then she flung that decision aside and pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” she said.

A flare of anger returned to Everett’s eyes and he slowly started drawing a dagger from his boot. Before he could draw it in full, a deep growl resonated from the bushes. All three tensed, the dark elf placing himself between Valorie and the noise as a wolf appeared, teeth bared in a wide snarl.

“It’s alright,” Kendra said, rushing over to the wolf’s side in order to assure the others. “He’s with me. I’d put that dagger back, though, if I were you.” She locked eyes with Everett, and this turn of events seemed to be too much for the boy as he turned and fled.

Melonzriel and Valorie watched him flee then turned interested eyes to Kendra as Luscious returned to her shoulder and Talon ceased his growling. He leaned in for a scratch behind the ear, as if he were no more than a dog. Kendra chuckled and obliged him, though the weight of him pressed against her nearly bowled her over.

“Well, I guess I should thank you, my friends,” Riel smiled, offering his hand to both Kendra and Talon for a shake and a sniff respectively. “I did not think Everett had enough of a spine to even attempt an attack. I never saw that coming.”

Kendra was confused. The scene that had played out before her very eyes did not at all sit well with her impression of how a night-elf should conduct himself. Certainly, Olivia had seemed impressed with Mel, or Riel as Valorie had called him, but Kendra had thought the blind woman might have simply been mistaken. Or maybe Riel wasn’t evil. An evil night-elf would have just killed those boys, maybe tortured them first. Even evil elves could become taken with a pretty girl, and Valorie was definitely pretty. If Riel had been evil and thought those boys were going to hurt Valorie, there would have been no end to the pain he could have caused them in return. But he’d held back. And Valorie clearly liked him in return. Unless the girl was just as seedy as the evil elf she would most certainly not return such affections. It was all so very confusing, unless one were to removing a very simple piece of the equation. Riel was clearly not evil.

Kendra smiled up at him, her nearness now offering her a splendid view under his hood. His face was as dark as his hands, with sharp elvin features, pointed ears, snow white hair, and deep blue eyes. He seemed a bit surprised to have elicited such a grin, but not nearly as surprised as her words made him. “And here I thought you’d be evil and ugly, but you’re quite dashing. No wonder Valorie likes you.”

“Um, thank you?” the night-elf exchanged a confused glance with the potion masters granddaughter before looking back at Kendra. “And you are?”

Kendra opened her mouth to offer introductions and explain her intentions when she suddenly remembered that Talon had instructed her not to tell Melonzriel that he wanted to kill Thradris. She glanced at Talon uncertainly, not wanting to lie, but then leaving a portion of the truth out wasn’t exactly lying now was it? And it wasn’t like she wanted to kill the night-elf. So it was really up to Talon to share that information, wasn’t it? She realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to say something.

“Ok. My name is Kendra, and this is Talon,” she motioned to the wolf, which just let out a snuff. “He’s not really a wolf. He’s a druid, but he’s hiding from this man who’s looking for him. He found us in the potions shop and we had to run away. We were looking for you because we need to find your father…” Kendra paused long enough to swing her pack off her shoulders and root around inside for the dragon statue. She pulled it out and showed it to the two in front of her. “This is Talon’s statue, and I have a ring with the same dragon in it. Talon thinks Thradris has a sword with the same dragon in the hilt. There’s some kind of connection, and we think Thradris might know what it is.”

There. She’d managed to tell the truth without sharing Talon’s secret. She felt very proud of herself and offered a smile for the wolf at her side. Talon just huffed again, unimpressed.

While Melonzriel examined the dragon items, Valorie looked at Kendra with concern. “If this is true…”

Kendra guessed she must be worried about her grandmother. “Olivia was okay when we ran away. Talon made all the plants come to life to stop the man at the door,” Kendra supplied.

“You should go check on her,” the dark elf said softly.

“What about you, Riel?” Valorie asked.

He smiled. “I’ll be fine. Now go.”

Valorie gave him a light kiss on the cheek before rushing off toward the potions shop. He watched her retreating figure until she’d disappeared from sight then glanced once again at the items Kendra had supplied before saying, “My father does not have a sword with a dragon in the hilt.”

Talon jerked his head up and looked at the elf, his expression like that of a dog that’d been kicked. Melonzriel just shook his head.

“What?” Kendra’s mouth was wide open in shock. How could that be? Did Talon come all this way for nothing? What were they supposed to do now? “Are you sure?”

“Well,” the night-elf paused reflectively, handing the statue and ring back to Kendra. “I don’t know. He does have a chest that he keeps locked up. I’ve never seen what he has in it.”

“So he might have the sword?” Kendra asked.

Melonzriel shrugged.

“Well, then the only way to know for sure is to ask him.”

“Good luck,” the elf scoffed. “Thradris hates visitors. The only person around here who’s even seen our hut is Valorie, and you don’t want to know what kind of a rampage he went on when I brought her there.”

“Please, Riel?” Kendra asked. “You’ve no idea how important this is.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but… I’m not going to risk upsetting Thradris for someone I don’t even know. For all I know, you could be making this up. No. I won’t take you to him.”

“But-“

“No.”

Talon started growling, but Melonzriel just shook his head. “Good luck, my friends.” Talon tensed, as if readying himself to lunge at the elf, but a moment of indecision betrayed him and Melonzriel was gone so fast it was almost as if he’d never been there.

Kendra felt disappointed. All that effort to tell the truth without telling Melonzriel the real reason they were looking for his father had been wasted. He still refused to take them to Thradris. Maybe it would have worked out better if she had told him Talon thought Thradris had killed his father so now he wanted to kill Thradris. Since Riel didn’t seem to be evil, maybe he would understand and agree to see justice done even though it meant the death of his own father. Kendra sighed and glanced at Talon who had his head low to the ground, seemingly downtrodden. She could not let her spirits be dampened. She had to cheer Talon up.

“Don’t worry, Talon,” she said. “We can still find Thradris. Riel said Valorie has seen the hut. Maybe she’ll be willing to show us the way?”

Talon looked to be pacing back and forth, his head still low. He wasn’t even listening!

“Talon!” Kendra yelled, grabbing his ear. The druid-wolf yelped in surprise and snapped at her, forcing her to release her grip, but at least he was looking at her now. “Why don’t we go see if Valorie will show us the way?”

The wolf shook its furry ruff and growled softly before looking once again at the ground. Kendra placed her hands on her hips with a frown. “Look here, you. I-“ She stopped, suddenly realizing something. “Oh! You’re not sad, you’re… sniffing!”

Delighted, the young woman flopped onto the ground, her belly resting on the cobbles of the garden path as her face leveled with Talon’s. “Think you can pick up his trail?”

The wolf snorted and Kendra grinned. “Great! Lead the way!”

Talon paced for a few moments more then seemed to settle on a single spot, breathing in deeply before looking into the woods where Melonzriel had departed. He gave his fur a good shake, sending Luscious back into the air, and the raven flew into the trees followed by a wolf and a girl.

*****

Following the wolf was difficult. He set a loping gait that left Kendra breathless and Talon did not seem to even be taxing himself. He kept glancing back as if to check on her and would occasionally make a brief stop to check the trail, his nose lowering to the ground to take in a deep whiff of the earth. Barely able to keep up, Kendra had no energy for conversation. That did not, however, stop her imagination.

She focused on her own heavy breathing, imagining the deep strong breath of a dragon. Glancing upward at the occasional fluttering of black feathers combined with her lightheadedness due to the taxing pace made it easier to imagine soaring. She felt as though her feet were being lifted from the ground, her own hurried steps touching nothing but air. The thrumming of her heart became the beat of dragon wings. In moments, she felt as though she were flying above the treetops instead of running beneath them.

A cool breeze became the gush of wind on her face as she sat astride a magnificent dragon. She saw before herself a sea of silver scales and found she was riding Vexitraenylaesk, the dragon depicted in her ring and Talon’s statue. Of course, it couldn’t really be him. He was long gone, had died centuries ago at the end of the Great Dragon Wars. Kendra just smiled. It felt real enough to her, and soon perhaps she might get to ride a real dragon.

She was drawn from her imaginings with a sudden jolt as she ran into Talon. She stumbled backward and fell flat on her rump, only to have Luscious make a buzz for her head. Kendra grabbed her hair and glared at the bird before glancing back at Talon to find out why he’d stopped. They’d come to a stream. Talon growled softly, as if asking her to stay put and then leapt over the stream to the other side. He began sniffing the ground, his tail going low as he started to whine. Kendra’s stomach growled. It was growing dark.

She hated to say it, but it looked like they had lost the trail. Talon seemed unwilling to give up, his circle going wider and wider past the point of crossing and his whining growing more insistent. “Talon,” Kendra called and received no response. “Talon!” She picked up a rock and chucked it his direction, hitting him square on the nose.

With a yelp, Talon turned to glare at her. “You should change back,” she said. “We need to make camp for the night. We can find the trail in the morning.” Talon gazed deep into the woods before turning back to Kendra dejectedly, wading back through the stream and flopping at her side. He gave his fur a good shake, and as Kendra went to retrieve firewood, she heard the tell-tale snapping and popping of his joints as he shapeshifted. When she returned, Talon was once again human, the raven toying with the clasp in his hair.

“What if we never find him?” Talon asked. “Or worse. What if we find him, and he’s the wrong night-elf?”

Similar questions had played through Kendra’s mind, but the unknown only filled her with excitement. Talon, on the other hand, seemed depressed. He seemed afraid that he would reach the end of his journey only to be left with nothing. No answers. A dead end. Kendra had met others like him who seemed to think that such dead ends meant their journey had been meaningless, that their life now held no purpose. Kendra sighed as the fire sparked into life.

“Let’s say we do find him and he is the one who killed your father, like you suspected,” Kendra ventured. “What will you do then?”

Talon’s eyes narrowed with a hidden rage, “See justice done.”

“And what if he’s not The Darkwalker?” Kendra asked.

Talon shrugged. “Maybe he knows who The Darkwalker is?”

“Ok,” Kendra agreed. “But if we assume the worst, it would be that he doesn’t know. What then?”

“I keep looking until I find him,” Talon replied.

“Alright, so no matter what, you are going to find this Darkwalker person who killed your father and kill him, right?”

Talon nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I must see my father avenged.”

“Then whether or not Thradris is the right night-elf isn’t really the question you need to be asking yourself,” Kendra offered. “What you really need to be asking yourself is what will you do after you kill The Darkwalker- assuming you succeed?”

“What do you mean?” Talon asked.

“I mean is that just it?” Kendra questioned. “Is that the end of your purpose? Or is there more? I mean, what about this guy from the potions shop? Why do you think he was looking for your father and is now looking for you? Are you going to confront him? What about my ring, your statue, and the sword? There must be some kind of connection.”

“Like what?”

Kendra shrugged. “Just trying to think outside the box. You don’t know anything about this man or his motives. You don’t even know if you need to be running from him. He might be trying to help you. Did you think of that?”

“Well, no,” Talon agreed.

“I thought so,” Kendra replied. “But these are all things we cannot possibly find the answers to until we find Thradris to confirm whether or not he’s the Darkwalker, and you avenge your father, and we confront this man who’s after you. Anything we come up with will just be speculation. So let’s focus on what we do know.”

“And what do we know?”

“We know that you have a statue and I have a ring, both of Vex,” Kendra supplied. “Granted, you said there are probably many items made to look like him, but it’s still highly unlikely that we would run into each other like that if they weren’t somehow connected. Where did your statue come from?”

“It’s been locked away in our vault for centuries,” Talon answered.

“What vault?”

“In the Druid Conclave,” Talon explained. “We have a vault for storing historically significant artifacts. There’s all kinds of items in there. Bargal’s Axe. Quiliar’s Bow. Rowvlin’s Eye. Artenius’ Stone.”

“So the statue is important,” Kendra interrupted. “If these things are common, you wouldn’t have had it in your vault.”

“Well, yes,” Talon agreed.

“But you don’t know exactly what its significance is?”

“No. I can’t be expected to know the significance of every item in our vaults.”

“Then why did you take it out of the vault?” Kendra asked. “Why carry it with you? Wouldn’t it be safer to leave it at the Druid Conclave?”

“Not exactly,” Talon commented. “That’s actually part of the reason I’m avoiding this man tailing me. The Agrimar-“

“The who?”

“The Agrimar,” Talon said, as if the name meant everything, but Kendra’s expression remained confused. “The head druid.”

“Oh, sorry,” Kendra smiled. “Go on.”

“The Agrimar invited him to stay the night, as there was no other shelter for miles, and he kept asking all these questions about father. The other’s thought nothing of it, but I was suspicious. I was keeping a close eye on him, and he stole the statue from our vault. Nobody believed me, so I followed him when he left and managed to get it back.”

“Hmmm, interesting,” Kendra muttered thoughtfully.

“That’s not everything,” Talon said softly.

“No?”

He shook his head. “When I returned, the vault had been ransacked though nothing had been taken, and… everyone was dead.”

Kendra’s eyes went wide. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” Talon said nothing, and Kendra found herself utterly frustrated by his silence. “You didn’t think that might be important? That it might hold some significance? You think it was The Darkwalker? And this just proves that your statue holds some kind of importance. How can you be so set on killing Thradris not to realize it? Don’t you think you should be trying to figure out why these people are after the statue? The Darkwalker probably killed your father looking for it! So who is this other man? Is he working with The Darkwalker, or trying to keep the statue away from him?”

Again Talon said nothing, and Kendra let out a huff of frustrated breath. “Ok, what about my ring then?” she asked. “If it’s one of these dragon artifacts how come it’s been in my family so long?”

Talon seemed intrigued by this train of thought as well. He gazed into the fire, remaining silent for a long moment more before asking, “Do you know how your family came about the ring?”

“I’m not sure,” Kendra answered. “My Uncle Vick gave it to me. Said it was an heirloom, that it’s been in the Farvel family for generations.”

Talon’s eyes narrowed. “Farvel?”

Kendra tilted her head to the side, wondering why this interested Talon. “Yes. My name is Kendra Farvel. I told you that already.”

“I remember reading something about the Farvel’s,” Talon muttered, wracking his memory for anything pertinent. “Aren’t you halflings of the Turba clan?”

“Oh, yes,” Kendra smiled bright. “We all tell stories about great-great-great-great…” she frowned, trying to remember how many greats there were and then waved it away as unimportant, “grandpa Trystin and his adventure with the dragon. You know the island of Coale is still uninhabitable to this day, after he upset that dragon by sneaking into its hoard? The first time my father told me that story, I wished I could meet a dragon someday. I’ve always wanted to ride one.”

She paused, realizing Talon was distracted as he continued staring into the fire thoughtfully. “Did I reveal something important?” she asked, leaning in so close to the flames in her excitement that they nearly singed her hair.

“I’m not sure,” Talon replied. “It seems completely unrelated, but then why would father have included it in his book?”

“Your father’s history of the races? He wrote about my family in it?”

Talon nodded. “Yes. There was an excerpt on the Turba clan. I wish I’d paid closer attention to it.”

“Wow. I didn’t think my family did anything important enough to be put in a history book. Except, I guess Trystin’s tangle with Nader… Narder..” Kendra sighed. “The dragon on Coale would be noteworthy enough, right?”

“Yes,” Talon agreed absentmindedly. “We should get some rest. Maybe this will be clearer in the morning.”

*****

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 tendency to sneak out of the elvin 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 and up the bank of the stream, 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 elvin pair hurried toward the light, careful to move quietly through the woods.

When the sleeping pair came into view, Rellimor put a hand over his mouth in surprise. A little girl… and the druid! Some man had come to their encampment a few days ago looking for the druid. Leonelis had put everyone on high alert. A glance at his brother confirmed that Delvont had recognized the sleeping man fitting the druid’s description as well. “What do we do now?” Rellimor whispered.

“Go tell Leonelis,” Delvont answered, and the two young elves disappeared.

*****

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. He could sense Kendra’s still sleeping presence on the forest floor just next to the last lonely embers of their campfire just as easily as he sensed the presence of the birds in the trees, the squirrels in their holes, and a raccoon rooting around for grasshoppers by the stream edge. He could feel them as easily as he felt the presence of Luscious on his shoulder, the trees and earth becoming an extension of his own skin.

Now if only they were close enough to Thradris’ hut, he might be able to sense his presence as well. Talon spread his sense of awareness as far as he could, rooting, searching.

Suddenly, the whiz of disrupted air rushed past Talon’s 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. Talon felt a sharp sting of pain and had to pull back in on himself, separating the pain of the tree from his own body. 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. He silently cursed himself for letting his search distract him from so obvious a presence, so near, but he remained calm pulling back into himself. The waking girl by the fire, however, was not so calm.

“Did you see that?!” Kendra gasped aloud. “That arrow almost hit you!”

“That was on purpose,” the bow-wielder called from his perch. “I did not have to miss.”

“What is it you want, elf?” Talon asked. “We are not trespassing on your lands.”

“Who’s there?” Kendra asked, gathering her feet under herself and looking around desperately for any sign of the bow-wielder. Disorientation from lingering sleep left her confused. “Who are you talking to, Talon? Is it Riel? Or Thradris?”

“Thradris!” the elf in the trees repeated, his voice surprised and angry. He leapt down from the tree, keeping a steady bead on the druid as he slowly approached the pair. Kendra was surprised to find that his skin was not dark. He had, instead, fair skin, deep blue eyes, and hair as black as Talon’s. He wore the leather garb of a woodsman and carried himself with the steady grace of a well-practiced warrior. He was a moon-elf. “What have you to do with Thradris, druid?”

Talon narrowed his eyes, wondering how much he should divulge. This elf clearly knew Thradris, but was his anger directed toward them or the night-elf? Was he a friend of Thradris intent on keeping visitors away, or had the mention of the dark elf’s name filled him with distaste? Talon could not be entirely sure, but he assumed the latter given Melonzriel’s insistence that Thradris did not welcome others in his home. Besides, there was a deep rooted hatred between the night-elves and the other elves of the surface. Perhaps this one and Thradris had personally crossed paths. Before he could craft his answer, however, Kendra began spilling their tale.

“We’re looking for him,” she said, excitedly, approaching the elf as if she did not even notice the drawn bow. “Because we think he has a dragon sword that matches my ring and Talon’s statue, and that he might know something about them that could explain why this man is after Talon. And Talon thinks he might be The Darkwalker who killed his father and all the druids at the conclave!”

The elf blinked, looking down at Kendra in confusion. “Thradris the Darkwalker?” he muttered.

Kendra nodded, “Well, we think so,” she replied. “If he’s the one with the dragon sword. If he doesn’t have it though, then The Darkwalker must be someone else, and we’re going to keep looking until we find him so Talon can avenge his father.”

The elf shook his head and focused his gaze back on Talon. “It matters little. This only confirms our suspicions. You are to be brought into our custody, druid.”

“Why?” Talon asked.

“You are not in a position to be asking questions,” the elf replied haughtily. “You will come with me.”

“No,” Talon stated.

“I do not think you realize, druid, you have little choice in the matter,” with a snide twitch of his head, there was a rustling in the surrounding trees as more elves appeared, bows drawn and ready. Kendra found herself amazed by their sudden appearance. It was as if they’d materialized out of thin air!

Talon, while he did not look surprised, looked defeated. Even a powerful druid could not stop that many arrows. He had no idea why these elves insisted on taking him into custody, but he ventured that cooperation was likely in his best interest. Recognizing Talon’s defeat, the first elf lowered his bow, drawing a bit of rope as he stepped forward toward Talon. Kendra couldn’t believe Talon was giving up so easily. She set her jaw in determination, standing firm next to her companion as the elf approached. When the elf seized Talon’s arm, Kendra bowled herself into his leg, sending him tumbling to the ground.

“Kendra!” Talon called in surprise. Some of the elves in the trees let loose their arrows in the commotion, their shafts sticking out of the ground at Talon’s feet, as if to discourage him from running. Kendra did not seem to notice. She was too busy trying to disentangle herself from the elf she’d knocked over. He apparently had some skill in close combat, but Kendra was far smaller than any opponent he’d ever wrestled before, and far more slippery.

The elf tried to grab her hair and she slipped under his grip. He tried to stand, and she tripped him up again. He moved to draw a dagger from his belt, but she beat him to it, slipping the weapon from its sheath. No arrows were loosed her direction, the elves in the trees not wanting to risk hitting their companion. Two did, however, move to the ground, drawing their swords as they approached Talon. “Run, Talon!” Kendra shouted.

“And get shot?” Talon called back. “Are you mad?”

“Make the plants move! Turn into a wolf! Do something!” Kendra replied, stabbing the elf in the leg and causing him to shriek in sudden pain. The move had cost her, however, and the elf snagged her ponytail. She yelped, reaching up to cut off her own hair, but the elf then grabbed her wrist. She twisted it, gashing his arm, but he just gritted his teeth and kicked her in the gut. As she tumbled to the ground, the wind knocked out of her, she could see the other elves who had entered the clearing tying Talon’s hands behind his back. She was dazed, confused. Why wouldn’t Talon fight back? Before she could do or say anything, everything went black.

*****

[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 moat to the dragon’s horde and found a treacherous looking arch making its way over the molten heat below. No sooner had she noticed it than she was bounding across. She wondered if she should wake the dragon. Would it be angry with her? Would it torch her in its anger? Such thoughts sent a chill down her spine, but she just could not shake off her desire to wake the dragon. Adrenaline coursed through her body with the excitement of her encounter.

As she began making her tentative approach, the gleam of all the gold and gems surrounding her glared far too brightly. She reached up to shade her eyes and found her brow was covered in sweat. Though the great scaly beast before her seemed to be in absolute comfort, but she could not handle the heat. The closer she drew to the dragon, the more stifled her breath became, but she pressed on. As she reached its side, she was able to see just how terribly large the great red was. Her own body was not even the size of one massive claw.

Before she could move any closer, a bright glinting caught her eye and she turned to find a ring standing out from all the many collected sparkling items in the hoard. Kendra was surprised to find it was her uncle’s ring. How had it gotten here? The silver band set with the simple blue sapphire gem was unmistakably familiar, and of course the image of the dragon within could be seen upon closer inspection. The young woman reached down to pick it up, and despite the surrounding heat it was cool to the touch.

A deep rumbling brought her attention back to the dragon. Tendrils of smoky breath curled up from the creature’s nostrils and one great eye opened, its bright searing orange color a reflection of the golden pile at Kendra’s feet. The beautiful monstrosity lifted its head and looked directly at her. Kendra’s mouth opened wide as she became lost in the gaze of that enormous amber eye, but the heat was now far too much for her to bear. Her head began swirling, the image before her swimming, and she could no longer tell which way was up.

Then she could feel a cool, damp rag on her forehead and she slowly blinked her eyes open. She had been dreaming, she was certain, but then why was she still staring into golden eyes? The connection between her brain and sensory organs slowly roused into wakefulness and she could feel a great weight pressed down on her chest. At first she thought her body was vibrating, but then she realized the mass on top of her was purring and everything suddenly made sense as her eyes adjusted to the dark of the night. It was the cat! That reddish cat with the black tufted ears was lying on her chest staring at her. It was at least twice the size of a house cat and applied heavy pressure to her chest. The rag on her forehead, though, could not have come from the cat. Who else was with her? Why was she lying on the ground with a cloth on her head anyway?

Her memory came flooding back and a sudden shock jolted through her body. She tried to rise only to have her vision swirl out of focus. “Talon!” she called, desperately. Where was the druid? Was he okay?

“Shhh, shh,” a familiar voice murmured out of the darkness. “Calm down. Don’t get up. You’ve got quite a nasty bump on your head and a slight fever. Just take it easy.”

The voice was not Talon’s and panic started to set in as she searched for the source. Random thoughts flitted through her mind. Why was it dark? Had she slept through the entire day? Talon could be anywhere by now. The moon-elves would have taken him into the Silver Wood, and she was still lying on the ground by the creek where her assailants had abandoned her. So who…

Finally, her eyes were able to set on a dark figure practically invisible in the shadows of the trees. The darkness of his skin made him even harder to pinpoint, but now she knew why the voice had sounded familiar.

“Riel!” She tried to rise again and found the cat pressing down on her. She glared at those golden-amber eyes with stiff determination. “Get your cat off of me.”

Kendra could barely see his head tilt to the side. “The cat is not mine,” he said. “I thought it was yours. It led me to you.”

The cat continued to stare at Kendra, and its rumbling purr sounded like laughter in her throbbing ears. “You brought help to me?” she asked it, and though everything still seemed to be swimming before her eyes she could have sworn it winked. “Then thank you, but now we need to go help Talon!” The large furry creature glanced to the side as if something in the wood had drawn its attention and Kendra let out a sigh, not sure if the cat had understood anything. Was she to be trapped here while the druid was dragged further and further into the Silver Wood? Surely she could not be held hostage by a mere cat, no matter how enormous it was!

Then, the beast rose and trotted off into the woods, its movements languid and purposeful as if it had not a care in the world. So strange… but Kendra did not have time to worry about that. She sought out the faint glow of Melonzriel’s bright blue eyes in the darkness of the night, now desperate for his aid. “Please, we have to help Talon!”

“Your wolf?” Riel asked, handing Kendra a cup of water as she rose to a sitting position.

“Yes,” Kendra answered, then shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. “No. I told you, he’s not a wolf. He’s a druid. He was captured by the moon-elves. I don’t know what they plan on doing with him, but I think something awful might happen if we don’t find him! That man from the potion shop is looking for him and seems to be after his dragon statue, and the Darkwalker killed his father and—“

“The Darkwalker?”

That voice. Melonzriel had not answered her. That voice had come from further in the darkness, somewhere behind the night-elf. The voice was similar but deeper, and it sounded hollow and tainted. It was a haunted voice, and Kendra felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine. She could not locate the source, but she could guess…

“Th-Thradris?” she asked the empty air. Then two burning red globes revealed themselves like pinpricks in the dark.

“What do you know of the Darkwalker?” the voice asked.

Kendra found herself shivering all the more as the disembodied eyes locked on her. It was as if she was speaking to nothing more than a shadow. Had this dark elf really killed Talon’s father? Was he the Darkwalker? Had she only put Talon in more danger by revealing his location? But how could Thradris be the Darkwalker if he’d always been here with his son, Melonzriel? Talon had to be mistaken, but both the moon-elf and Thradris had reacted to her use of the name. Clearly they knew something… She decided it was time to tell the whole truth.

“I don’t know anything about the Darkwalker,” she said. “I’d never even heard the name until I bumped into Talon. Talon told me some man had come to his home, the Druid Conclave, asking about his father and what he was working on. His father was away researching the elves for his History of the Races, and Talon found the man’s interest suspicious. So he watched him and caught him trying to steal this dragon statue from their vaults.”

Kendra glanced around and spied her bag against the trunk of a tree. She tried to stand, but decided against it as her legs wobbled and she motioned to it. “It’s in my bag now,” she explained. “Talon went after the man to retrieve it then went looking for his father. His father was dead, and Talon said he asked the trees who had killed him. The trees said ‘The Darkwalker’. Talon thought…” Kendra blushed in embarrassment, looking between the two dark figures before her. “Well, he thought it was… you, Thradris. He came looking for you to… avenge his father.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Melonzriel shouted. The young elf rose to his feet and started pacing. “What kind of fools do you take us for, huh? First you hunt me down in the garden and feed me some lie trying to get me to help you find some dragon sword, and now you say this imaginary druid wants to kill Thradris? My father hasn’t killed anyone except those necessary to defend the people of this town, and now you go spreading some rumor about a Darkwalker probably trying to get everyone to drive us away! You may be good at making up stories, but that’s all this is! A story! I don’t know why I helped you. What do you think you’re playing at, making things up about us? Take your lies somewhere else, and—“

Kendra had folded her arms across her chest and started scowling at Melonzriel. She’d been about to give him a few choice words of her own about accusing her of lying, but she didn’t need to. When Thradris interrupted his trailing vent by placing a firm hand on his shoulder, Riel glanced at his father’s smoldering eyes and instantly quieted.

“And how did you become mixed up in all this, little one?” he asked.

Kendra’s mouth gaped open, her own thoughts now lost on the wind at the interruption. “I, uh.. I, oh um,” she pulled her ring off her finger to show it to Thradris. “I bumped into Talon on the road a few days back. Someone had stabbed him with a poisoned knife and I tried to help him. When he saw that my ring matched his statue he thought we must be fated to travel together, so I’ve been helping him look for you in the town. I think there’s something important about these, and Talon said the Darkwalker was a night-elf who had a dragon sword that matched these, so there’s some kind of connection, though I haven’t the slightest clue what it could be.”

Thradris handed the ring back to Kendra after he’d examined it and asked almost absentmindedly, “May I see the statue?”

“Y-yes, of course,” Kendra answered.

It was hard to follow his movements in the dark, but Kendra saw him rifle through her bag and draw out the statue. Melonzriel seemed unable to watch quietly.

“Thradris, you don’t believe this nonsense do you?” he asked.

The mysterious elf did not answer. He just examined the statue as he had the ring then carefully replaced it in Kendra’s bag. “You said the moon-elves have your friend?” Thradris asked Kendra.

She nodded.

“We will help you.”

Melonzriel looked about to protest, but a glare from his companion left anything he would have said caught in his throat. Instead, the moment Thradris’ back was turned he extended his own glare toward Kendra. Kendra had no idea what to think about the whole ordeal. She was so very confused. She had come here expecting to find a murderer or at the very least a misunderstanding that could be explained. Instead, she found only more questions, and with how much her head was swimming she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sort anything out.

“That concussion should clear up shortly,” Thradris spoke from somewhere in the dark. “In the meantime, replenish yourself. We will be off as soon as you are able.”

At the mention of food, Kendra noticed the cool white ashes of an extinguished fire between her and the dark elves. Resting on some curled leaves next to it was a roasted rabbit. Her stomach growled at the mere prospect of real meat. Aside from her one night in the city tavern, she’d been living on traveling rations for quite some time, and her meal there was not worth mentioning. She could not, however, dive right into satisfying her stomach when Talon was in immediate danger.

“But… what about Talon?” she asked. “We have to get moving now. The moon-elves already have a whole day’s head start. Who knows what they’ve done with Talon by now? I mean, granted moon-elves are supposed to be peaceful, but then why did they take Talon captive and leave me here? We’ll never find them if we don’t—“

“You are in no condition to go anywhere, Turba,” Kendra was surprised to hear Thradris call her by her clan name. She hadn’t even mentioned it to him… “Once your head clears, we will go. No sooner.”

“How do you know-“

Another glare quieted her. How did he do that? All it took was a glimpse at those old crimson eyes, and she knew she had to stop talking.

“You will learn better through quiet observation than you will through questions, young one,” Thradris said softly.

Kendra nodded mutely and accepted the rabbit leg Melonzriel offered her, though she was secretly disagreeing with him. How was she supposed to learn anything if she didn’t ask questions? When she looked up again, Thradris was gone. “Where did he--?” her question trailed off on the night air, and the remaining dark elf looked as unwilling to answer her questions as Thradris had been. So she was left to her own musings. A simple bite of the food seemed to awaken her stomach, and Kendra realized just how hungry she was. It wasn’t until she’d eaten two rabbit legs and an accompanying dish of roasted mushrooms that she was even able to come back to logical thought. The pain and haziness in her head was now slowly receding, and she found herself wondering if the mushrooms had some healing property within them. She did not recognize them despite everything her father had taught her.

Riel sat quietly next to her the entire time she ate, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Kendra had so many questions, but would he have the answers? He had seemed surprised by her tale and disbelieving. Her lip curled into a frown as she recalled his hostility, but could she really blame him? Though she had not lied, she had indeed misled him. Based on her observations, she was now certain Thradris was not the one who had killed Talon’s father. But then, why would Talon have believed Thradris was the Darkwalker? And why did both the moon-elf and Thradris react so adversely to that name? Without more information, Kendra found herself desperately trying to piece together clues that seemed to have no connection.

Until Thradris returned, it seemed her only outlet was Melonzriel. At some point as she’d been thinking, he’d risen from his seat next to her and was now practicing sword maneuvers against some invisible foe in the clearing. The potions master had been right about his skill. His movements were intricate and graceful. It was more than just the waving about of his sword or the speed of his hands. His feet took fluid purposeful steps, his whole body wrapped in a dance that was the art of the sword. Though Kendra considered herself a skilled fighter, she knew she could never match such mastery. Her own tactics seemed clumsy in comparison. A part of her wondered why he would waste such time in training when he seemed to live a peaceful existence in the woods. Watching him though, she simply could not consider it a waste.

As if he felt her eyes on him, Riel brought the dance to an end, sheathing his sword as he came once again to her side. “If you are ready, we will head out now,” his voice held no emotion, and she could tell he’d distanced himself from her. For some reason, she felt a pang in her chest at that notion. She did not like thinking that she had caused him pain.

“What about Thradris?” she asked.

Melonzriel tilted his head forward, as if indicating a position ahead of them. “He leads the way.”

Kendra squinted with the attempt to see him, but could pinpoint nothing in the still dark night. “Don’t worry,” Riel assured her. “I can see him.”

“How?” Kendra asked.

“Our vision is different from your own,” he explained. “I can see the heat of his body. Just as I can see the heat of your own, the heat of the ground, the trees. Our vision guides us better at night than during the day. This is why we are called night-elves.”

“Oh,” was all she could think to reply.

Melonzriel moved forward, and if Kendra did not want to be left behind, she had no choice but to follow. Though she could not pick Thradris out among the shadows, the younger elf remained in her sights and glanced back often to make sure she was keeping up. The going was difficult in the dark, and Kendra found herself often stubbing her toes on roots and hidden debris or smacking her face into nearly invisible branches or filmy spider webs. With the number of webs she seemed to walk through, she wondered if the occupants would be upset about their wasted work or simply take it in stride. How many times did they respin their webs before catching a morsel to eat?

As they moved further into the woods, the canopy became denser and her blunderings continued to increase. It was amazing how quietly the elves could move through the trees in the dark when her own movements produced such a terrible ruckus that the night creatures quieted as if watching her passing with amusement. She hurried her steps, bumping her shin against a shadowy stump for her efforts, and came to measure her strides next to Riel’s longer steps. With her short legs, she had to take at least two steps to his one.

“So, you can see heat?” Kendra asked.

The night-elf looked down at her, and Kendra wondered if his expression was one of annoyance, amusement, disinterest, or something else entirely. She couldn’t tell. He nodded.

“Is that why Thradris’ eyes are red?” she probed. “Why aren’t your eyes red? Can you see heat as well as he does, or does having blue eyes make it harder? Someone once told me that people who are born with blue eyes grow up to be blind, but that can’t be right. That lady from the potion shop had milky eyes, and your eyes are blue and you see just fine. Plus, that would mean that moon-elves are blind, because most moon-elves have blue eyes. Though I did meet a little girl once who had blue eyes and was blind, and every horse I’ve ever seen with blue eyes was blind. Horses don’t really need to see all that well though. They rely on hearing more than anything else. Like owls. Did you know owls can hear a mouse underground? And they’re silent flyers. That’s how they’re able to hunt so well, because they can sneak up on their prey real easy and can pinpoint right where their prey is with their ears. Ouch.”

Kendra found that her conversation had distracted her, and she stumbled into a sink hole that had been hidden by the layer of fallen leaves. She quickly righted herself and brushed her pants off, though she felt fairly certain she was going to have another bruise to go along with her bumped shin. Melonzriel hardly slowed for her to catch up.

“You talk too much,” he said softly as she reached his side again.

“I’m sorry,” Kendra said. “I don’t mean to bother you. My mouth just runs away with me like that.”

Kendra was quiet again for a time as she tried to keep up with Melonzriel. She decided to turn her eyes ahead and see if she could catch any glimpses of Thradris as they walked. How did he even know where they were going? There was hardly a trail. Sometimes they seemed to be walking along a deer or rabbit trail, but other times they passed through areas so thick with underbrush she couldn’t understand how he made it through so silently. Now and then she saw a flicker in the shadows that could have been him, but it could also have been nothing more than a trick of her eyes.

“Why doesn’t he walk with us?” Kendra asked.

Melonzriel glanced down at her and Kendra found herself once again wishing she could read his expression. She loved mystery, but she was beginning to think she’d found herself far too many mysterious people. “He doesn’t like people,” he replied.

“Why not?” Kendra asked, managing to swat away a branch before it hit her in the face.

“Most people are afraid of him,” Riel explained. “We help keep the streets clear of highwaymen, but most are still convinced we’re evil. Thradris prefers to just avoid them.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re evil,” Kendra replied. “I mean, I thought you might be when we were coming to find you, but I obviously didn’t have accurate information. See, I always thought night-elves lived underground, and you live in the woods. And I always thought you were magic users, but you two are clearly swordmasters. I guess people usually think you are evil, because the histories of the elvin wars say you turned against your kin. Maybe the first night-elves were evil, but that was such a long time ago. Now that I’ve met you, I know you aren’t evil. It’s not like everyone in an entire race is going to be exactly the same. Some people are evil and some are good. It’s not about how we were born. It’s about the choices we make.”

There was a moment of silence in which Kendra felt it was important she say nothing. Melonzriel seemed to be mulling over her words.

“You know, that is something Valorie said to me once,” he said quietly. Kendra held her silence and was rewarded with a gentle smile. At least, she assumed it was gentle. She could tell he was smiling, because his bright white teeth were exposed in the dark air. “It would be nice if all people think as you do.”

Kendra smiled back at him, glad to have made a most wonderful friend. He seemed to have forgiven her for misleading him at their first encounter, and that gave her a sense of relief. “I just hope Talon realizes the mistake he made when we show up to save him,” she said.

“Yes,” Riel replied thoughtfully. “Talon… He is truly a druid, as you said?”

Kendra nodded emphatically. “Yes. I’m sorry for not telling you why he really wanted to find your father, but there’s no way Thradris could be the one who killed his father since you two have been around here for so long and Thradris doesn’t even have the dragon sword. I’m sure there’s some kind of connection with these things, but Talon didn’t seem all that interested in finding out. He must miss his own father very much. I’ve heard of people going on quests for vengeance, but this is the first time I’ve ever met one. I wonder who the Darkwalker must be then, and why Talon thought it was Thradris? He didn’t tell me how he figured it out, but both Thradris and that moon-elf acted like they recognized the name. Do you know who the Darkwalker is?”

Melonzriel shook his head. “Like you, I’ve never even heard the name until now.” He looked ahead, probably watching Thradris as he led them through the woods. “It must be something important, because Thradris has never traveled this far from home for anyone.”

Kendra tried to follow Melonzriel’s gaze but still found her own night vision lacking. Her body was aching with the effort to keep the rigid pace set by her elvin companions, but she found that she was running into things less often now. Her footing had become surer, for the way had certainly not become any clearer. What was it that Thradris knew about the Darkwalker? Was he some legend known only to the elves? Someone who brought some terrible contribution to the Elvin Wars? Kendra could only speculate, as Thradris seemed set on avoiding her and her questions. If only she could unravel this amazing mystery.

*****