The benefits and negatives of dropping the thought shield suddenly rushed through him, and he thought for a moment that the thing might keep the shield in place no matter what. One final thought flashed, however; Troublefinder looking up at him with complete trust in his blue-gray eyes as their consciousness began to separate. With that thought it seemed a decision had been made and the thought shield dropped.
That was impressive to witness. The thought came from outside himself, and he knew it must be the Quaelyne’s mind.
You could see what happened through the shield? he thought back.
Not so much see, as feel. The will of the other is strong, but I could feel your battle even through the barrier. A feeling of respect flowed through the connection. Wisdom is knowing when you are overmatched and finding a way to outthink your opponent. He is you, but not. The most primal part of your mind it knows only base things, attack and defense, victory and defeat. Emotions will shape its growth. The more afraid you are, the more control it will have over you. Show it that you are able to handle whatever comes your way and you will eventually become its master.
As the Quaelyne finished his thoughts, the boy could feel the barely contained rage that the intimidating being in front of him was keeping in check and realized that these strange creatures knew better than anyone what he was dealing with. As the Quaelyne started to speak into his mind again he realized that the previous conversation had been between only the two of them as Pershanti looked between the two of them curiously.
I see that you saved the life of my son, the Quaelyne said, sending gratitude and happiness through the link.
“Well, he did,” Pershanti said, tilting his head towards his young friend. "I just kind of helped out afterwards."
Acknowledgement of the truth was sent to them, along with respect. True, but you are fostering this cub, so his actions speak well for you.
Pershanti nodded his understanding, clearly overwhelmed to have earned the respect of such a powerful creature.
We heard you walking the remembrances, the Quaelyne said, looking towards the boy. Rarely has one seen them so clearly.
“The memories?” the boy said, receiving a strong feeling to the affirmative in return. “I am not sure how I do it, they come and go at random.”
This is common in one so young, though I have rarely heard of one of your kind having the ability. If the Elders agree I will teach you how to walk the remembrances as I teach Troublefinder. As he finished, a small yip of excitement filled the bower and they all felt a quick wave of exaltation rush through them.
All of them looked at Troublefinder to see him hopping in a small circle, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. They all shared a moment of merriment between them that had the little guy stop and look at them all.
“That was him, wasn’t it?” Pershanti said.
Yes, through the thought share you may pick up on his strongest feelings. He is young yet, and doesn’t know how to share his thoughts, but when a connection is established it is sometimes strong enough that emotions can intrude on the signal.
“Amazing.” Pershanti looked like a cat that had just found a bowl of cream.
“What are you called?” the boy asked.
Forgive me, that should have been one of the first things we spoke of, but I noticed that you do not have a thing you call yourself so thought it might be rude to bring it up. A wave of thoughts went through them then. First, an image of a smaller silver and black form dropping onto the back of a spider three times his size in order to save his future mate. Next, an image of a slightly larger version of himself staring down a pack of wolves whose pelts gleamed like the night sky. Finally images of him nearly fully grown staring into the challenging eyes of a familiar female, now fully grown, who was half again his size. Dauntless.
“Well, Dauntless, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am known as Pershanti. I have tried to give my companion here a name, but he seems set against it.”
Names are important, Pershanti. He will know when he has found the name he is comfortable with, and in time that too shall be shed when he reaches maturity, as it should be.
This thought comforted the boy. He was beginning to think that he was simply being stubborn, but Dauntless had reinforced the idea that had been simmering in the back of his mind for some time. He would find a name that fit him until he remembered who he was or picked a name for himself.
Rest until morning, then I will bring you to the Quaelyne. I will stand guard, in case there is anything hungry enough to brave your flame.
First Seventhday
Town of Verge
Elandria awoke to the sounds of crunching snow as someone walked up to the front door of the building they were trapped in. She thought about getting out of bed to meet whoever it was on her feet, but as she poked her head above the blankets, she decided it was too cold out to let her pride get the best of her. After several boards were removed, the door was slowly pulled open. It took a few well-placed kicks to break through the snow that had built up at the bottom of the door in order to open it enough to let someone inside.
A Dracairei stepped into view a moment later. He stepped down into the room with a slight wince, his leg giving slightly under his weight.
“Still alive, I see,” he said, his breath billowing out before him. “Noble of you to help keep the Dwarf warm, but his chances of survival are not very good. Even if he survives the toxin, he’ll probably just end up like the other one.”
The other one? She thought. Her eyes went wide as she realized he must be talking about Seargeant Mcdowell.
“Ah, I can see you didn’t know he was alive still.” The Dracairei laughed. “Well, even though I’m a little surprised myself, I assure you he will not be so for long.” Respect entered his voice after the taunt. “These Dwarves are awfully tenacious creatures. He’s been in the pillory for the last few days. This morning he began to show the first signs of frostbite. I’m afraid that if the weather continues, he’s going to lose his fingers and toes by the end of the day.”
Elandria stared at the Dracairei, his pink eyes watching her for the smallest reaction. She was determined not to let him see how much his words hurt her. Sergeant Mcdowell wouldn’t want her to show the assassin any weakness, so she was determined to shove her despair away while he was in the room.
“You might be surprised. He’s tougher than you think.”
“Rest assured, we are well aware of who you are now. There are only a few special units that the Protectorate would send this far into our territory. Based on the composition of the members of your squad, we are fairly certain you are the unit known as the Vigilantes. According to our intelligence, there are several not yet identified members of your squad still at large.” The Dracairei pulled out a small slip of paper. “Let’s see. Twin Gray Elven brothers, who go by Za’erath and Za’kereth, a Priest and Mage respectively. A Human named Drake who specializes in scouting and infiltration, and a Dwarven Cleric named Bredwin.”
They don’t know yet that Bredwin and Drake died last year, and they haven’t caught the twins yet. Elandria put every effort into keeping her face stony so as not to show any sort of reaction as he read off the names. “You have done your homework,” she said, figuring it was no use trying to deny the information.
“Yes, which would make you Elandria, expert archer and sometimes scout…” The Dracairei looked down at her with a smirk. “…or at least formerly so.”
She couldn’t help but wince at his jab, his remarks hit her solidly in her most vulnerable spot. For the last few days, she had been studiously trying to ignore the fact that she would no longer be able to use a bow, and had failed miserably in that task. The thought was with her every moment of her imprisonment. Who was she now that she wasn’t able to do the job she had excelled at?
“I see that one hit the mark.” The Dracairei laughed. “At least my leg will heal and I’ll be able to resume my duties. I’ve never heard of anyone regaining a limb once the wound be
gan to seal, although I’m betting the Blood Mages will give it a shot if you let them. I hear some of them love trying to put pieces from one creature onto another. They call it grafting.”
“That’s just what I want, to be some insane Mage's pet project.” Elandria realized she had raised her voice when Rundig stirred.
“Luckily for you,” the Dracairei said, completely disregarding her sarcasm, “you will have that chance once our mission here is complete.”
“You’re taking us to Siniquity?”
“You, and any others that survive our attempts to capture them.” The assassin pulled out a bag from inside his cloak and tossed it onto the bed. “On that note, my superior seems to think our master would like it if you and your companion weren’t dead from starvation before we can leave.”
“I’d say thank you, but you seem more inclined towards letting us rot away in here in our own filth,” Elandria replied while grabbing the bag.
“Yes, I think it is a waste of resources. However, until I hear otherwise, you will be treated as our guests.”
The smirk he shot her way let her know that he didn’t have a high ideal on how one should treat a guest. He stopped on his way back towards the door and looked at the pile of waste that was frozen in the corner of the room.
“Hopefully we can get out of here before the thaw really hits, or this place is going to be rather foul.” With that he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
She listened as he moved the bolts back into place, waiting until she could no longer hear his footfalls before looking inside the bag. Inside the bag there was a waterskin, a half dozen biscuits, and several large strips of dried meat. It would be enough to keep them alive for several days, but from the look the Dracairei had given her she realized that they would have to make it last for as long as possible.
Unless rescue came soon, they were not going to be strong enough to fight back. Laying her head down, she decided to wait until Rundig awoke before eating. They were in this together, and his body needed the resources more than hers at the moment. If he saw that she was eating, he would be more inclined to do so as well. Elandria moved the bag down underneath the blankets between them so that it wouldn’t freeze in the meantime. She wondered where everyone else was, and how they were doing.
Part of her wanted them to swoop in and rescue her, but she knew that wasn’t likely with so many Dracairei around. Their best option was escape, but she also knew they wouldn’t leave without her. In the quiet morning light, lying beside her weakened companion, she did something she hadn’t done since she was a girl: she prayed.
Chapter 18
Loose Threads
“Mommy!” Liara said, running around the wood cabin she lived in with the Elf named Kellen. Since she had turned five, her mother had stayed with them less and less, only coming to visit a few times a year. Liara would turn eleven in a month and had hoped her mother would come see her before then; her mom rarely missed her birthday.
“Liara!” the beautiful redheaded woman said, placing her travel pack against the wall so that she could lift her daughter into the air. “You are growing so much!” A series of tears rolled down her mother’s cheeks.
“Kellen has been teaching me how to use a bow!” Liara said, pointing towards a small bow that was visible through the window of the little cabin.
“Is he now?” Her blue eyes twinkled. “What will my daughter become?!” she said in mock distress.
“A great hunter someday, would be my guess,” Kellen said, coming out of the nearby woods. His tall, lithe frame was built perfectly for this environment. “Though we probably won’t have a lot of time above ground for a while if what I hear is true?”
“Word has already reached this far?” Her mother sighed and hugged her even more tightly.
“It has.”
Kellen’s hand twitched like he wanted to reach out to his guest, but he resisted the urge. Liara had only begun to notice the tension in the man whenever her mother was around within the last two years. She figured it had probably always been there, but she had just been too young to understand it for what it was. Kellen loved her mom, but he also knew that she didn’t return the feelings. Liara wanted to give him a hug and let him know that she was there for him, but something inside told her to wait.
“You need to travel further north and meet up with the High Elves. Your chances of surviving what is to come will be much higher with them.” Her mother put her down and turned towards the man who had raised her. “I know you don’t want to, Kellen, but it would be the best place for Liara and her children.”
Kellen looked away from her mother and sighed. “I know, I just have never agreed with the hatred that they spew, Tyrdra. Why can’t she go to South Harbor with her father?”
Her mother tensed at that, but as she turned to look Liara in the eyes she seemed surprised that her daughter hadn’t reacted to the news. “She knows?”
“I’ve known for a few years now,” Liara said, waving the whole thing away. She had been mad and had asked a million questions when she had first learned that her father was not only alive but a high ranking member of the Protectorate, but her time spent with Kellen had lessened her need to go off and find her real father. “I don’t want to go where my father is, I want to stay with Kellen.”
Kellen looked taken aback by the statement, but a moment later a hint of a smile touched his features.
“Well, you heard her. One thing I’ve learned over the years is you don’t argue with a daughter from my line.” Her mother turned back to Kellen and put her hands on his shoulders. “Kellen Daystar, I know I have already asked much of you, but I’m reaffirming my trust in you today. Would you take my daughter north with you?”
“I will,” Kellen said. He seemed to be having trouble figuring out where to look, as anywhere his eyes landed seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. “If they find out she is not an Elf there will be trouble, though.”
“You have taught her well, and I have done everything I can to make her look as Elven as possible; it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. At the very least, you can say she is a Wild Elf and though they will treat her with disdain, they will still accept her.” Liara’s mother turned around and knelt in front of her. “I am not sure when we will see each other again, so let’s make the most of the time we have now.”
“You aren’t going with us?” Liara said, as the world began to blur.
“I cannot, the world is in danger and there are things that need to be done to prevent total catastrophe. Remember everything that Kellen has taught you, and don’t let anyone know that you are not an Elf. Those people will kill you, especially if they find out after you have married and had children.”
“Alright.” Liara wiped her eyes. “Will you at least teach me some magic before you go?”
“We’ll see if you are able, but those of us who can use it do not call it magic.” Her mother stood and opened the door to the little cabin. “Let’s get some food, and then we’ll see where we are at. I’ll be with you until your birthday and then I’ll need to leave, so we have some time.”
Liara grabbed one of the straps on her mother’s travel bag and tried to lift it, but only managed to make it an inch off the ground. Kellen grabbed the other strap and helped her bring the bag inside. She only had a few Eightdays with her mother and she would make them count, then she would go on an adventure with Kellen. She decided there were worse ways for a young girl’s life to turn out.
Year: 3045 AGD
Month: Midwinter
First Seventhday
Death’s Edge Forest
He awoke to the sounds of excited yipping outside of their temporary shelter. It took him a moment to remember who he was and where he was, as happened when the dreams were especially potent. That was the first time he had ever been a young girl in his dream, however, and the experience had been interesting.
He had been in the memories of men and women before so he knew that they tended to
think in different ways, but having the memories of someone near his age allowed him to understand the difference on a much more personal level. The girl's mind had worked in a much different way than his. Things that would seem trivial to him were extremely important to her, and she had interacted with the world in a much different way on an emotional level.
The entire process was interesting to him, and he hoped that he would deal with memories of more boys and girls in the future so that he could more easily gauge if those differences were inherent or not. At that moment, more excited yipping occurred outside, drawing his mind away from his musings. He crawled towards the opening in the bower and saw what his friend was so excited about.
Dauntless stood over Troublefinder and swatted at the young Quaelyne with his paw. Troublefinder dodged each attack, as the blows were slow and easily anticipated, but the furry little guy seemed to be having a lot of fun anyway.
This was the first time that he had ever seen Troublefinder’s father in full, and he would be lying if he said the Quaelyne wasn’t intimidating; on all four legs, Dauntless was still easily a head taller than the boy, and probably twice that if he were to stand on his hind legs. Everything about the large Quaelyne screamed power and speed. The silver streaks in his hair gleamed in the morning light, making the black stand out all the more.
Good morning, nameless, we should be setting out soon.
Dauntless gave no visible sign that he had seen the boy, but the thought had been clearly directed at him. Troublefinder seemed to hear something of it, and he stopped mid-dodge and looked around, earning a gentle swat from the giant paw. Seeing his friend up and about, Troublefinder ran over and greeted him as well.
Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) Page 28
