Private Tales In the Wake of the Raging Flame

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
With the rising of the third day's sun, he too rose as he had the previous two. Each day his task changed, with the first days having him gathering firewood and stone and another digging for another dwelling they sought to build. Today he was sent out into the fields to tend the centaurs' crops, and there he would find himself in the open with the sun shining down on him with great clarity and warmth, and with its light he was sustained. And even though by now he felt more than well enough, for the time being he had feigned ailment, keeping his posture low and his pace shaky. The centaurs' had likely begun to think him broken, but he still preformed well enough to avoid too much attention.

That was until he felt her presence draw near, and like a quiet beckoning her arrival called to him. The sight of her found his eyes as he lifted his head to see, and for a moment there was only a quiet, still contentment in him that she was well.

At least, well enough.

But it did not escape him that those centaur guards who were set to watch over them had turned their attention to her. So, as Caliane's great wings beat against the air to soon lift her off of her feet, an opportunity arose that he would be remiss to ignore...

 
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Despite the humiliation and anger she felt at having one of her ankles chained like the centaurs other pet eagles, Caliane couldn't deny that the feeling of flight did not fill her with joy. This was where she was meant to be and being kept away from it was like being denied a vital part of her. She let out a relieved sigh as the sun touched her feathers and warmed her aching, protesting muscles, making it easier to tilt and shift them to the currents so she could circle as far out as the chain allowed.

As distracting as the euphoria of flying was, Caliane had other things on her mind too. Her eyes drifted to the camp and with her keener eyes she tried to pick out Eren amongst the shuffling crowds. Not seeing him amongst the maze of tents she glanced to the fieldhands below a few of whom has also stopped to gape. There! His blonde locks were slightly matted but she would recognise the set of his shoulders anywhere. Instead of staring up or bending to his work however, he was subtly making his way along the line to one of the centaur guards staring up at her. A spike of panic seared through her. Was he recovered enough for escape already?

She couldn't shout to him least he be discovered but she could add in a distraction.

Banking her wings she pretended to waver as though her muscles were failing her.

"Fire bird, come down!" there was a tug at her chain and she let her wings fold, suddenly seeming to lose control and plummeting towards the two centaurs gaping up at her.
 
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To say he had fully recovered was not exactly true, but he felt that enough of his strength had returned to him that he could carry out what he intended. And Erën trusted in Caliane enough to know that this was his chance. Their captors were far too engrossed in her display that they were unlikely to take notice of what he had in store. When her flight ceased and she began to plummet, their attention was all but entirely stolen.

There were chains that bound him, but that mattered little.

He pulled his arms outward so that the chains were pulled tight. He blinked, and luminous became his eyes.

His hands had formed fists, and they too became luminous as lightning gathered therein.

It was then with the sound of crackling that the centaurs' attention was turned.

And when they turned he moved, whipping his arms about so that both hands grasped his chains, and with the magic he gathered he snapped them. Then, with haste, he pounded both his fists together as one might grasp the hilt of a sword, and then pulled them apart, creating a spear in the likeness of his lightning magic. As the centaurs turned to assail him, he hurled the spear toward and then past them, its shape broadening as it soared clear in its intent to sever the chain still binding Caliane.

 
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At the last moment Caliane swerved, snapping out her wings and soaring just above their heads. Instinctively they ducked and in doing so saw finally what it was Erën was up to. They cursed as they drew their own weapons and after that the Avariel was forced to draw her attention away from them and towards her own problems. The centaur holding her chains, sensing the chaos that was about to ensue, desperately tugged upon her chains in an attempt to bring her back to the ground. But Caliane's wings were far stronger than an eagles. A swan could break a mans arm with a single beat, it seemed foolish to think an Avariel's wing could not do far worse.

As her jailer pulled Caliane flew against it. The centaurs hooves began to slide through the mud as she all but began to steadily, bit by bit, drag him forward. Link by link the chain slipped through his fingers and then suddenly the force was gone. The chain lay in two bits in thanks to Erën's spear of light. Free at last Caliane swept wide and free then banked around; she wouldn't leave without him. Swooping down she snatched up one of the pitchforks and hurled it towards the two Centaurs Erën fought.
 
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He could spare no time to watch if his attempt to free Caliane was successful. As quickly as his weapon was loosed did his feet beneath him move. He scrambled, drawing from the remains of what power he'd welled in the past days to bolster his speed. He had no choice given his foes' anatomy, as they were far quicker on their hooves than any usual enemy. But still, they were caught off guard, and their centre was lost. And he closed in quick, seemingly unexpectedly so as the centaurs appeared quite surprised, and of course they had already failed to suspect any magic from him, much less this sort.

And with their attention fixed upon him, it was with great shock and a fearful yelp that the more unfortunate of his adversaries was delivered and ill fate - a pitchfork bedded deep within its humanoid back. Though this creature's anatomy was likely... complicated, no doubt this was still a grievous wound.

The other's attention turned from him to his wounded ally, and then back toward Caliane with hate filled hollering.

Erën drew close, and a blue light wrapped itself around him before coalescing in his palm as he continued forward.

He was upon them, and once again he clenched his fist and this time another spear of crackling lightning took shape, but this one he did not loose. This one he jabbed forward with, and with only a second to comprehend the second centaur's blood was drawn, with Erën having forced the spear of energy up through the bottom of the beast's jaw and out the top of its skull. And he spared not a breath to revel in this victory, and instead drew the spear back as cleanly as any sharpened blade as quickly as he'd imbedded it, and in a rebounding movement pierced it deeply into the chest of the second centaur, previously wounded by Caliane. This time however, he released the energy binding the spear's shape and allowed it on into the wound it had created, leaving the centaur as little more than a charred, twitching heap. And though that all in itself was not a terribly strenuous feat for one such as he, the speed in which he'd employed had made it so. And so with that he was winded, his magics were diminished and his body was - for the moment - weakened.

Though they'd been fated this victory, there was still the matter of Caliane's personal jailor, who was already stampeding toward him in vengeful bloodlust, never mind the others who were no doubt becoming aware of the situation.

They had to do whatever they were going to do, fast. But first, they had this one pressing issue to attend to...

 
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Out of breathe and with her wings screaming at her in protest for the amount of flying after such grave injuries, Caliane landed amongst the other slaves. They all took a step back aside from one older man with greying hair at the temples. He looked human and yet the collection of species had seemed to nominate him their leader. Strange. She didn't have time to muse on the soundings of Groundlings however. She turned instead to the chains on his feet and took a deep breathe.

Please...

Faintly her hands began to glow with heat. She didn't think she could conjure fire with how much forkroot tea she had been made to consume but this should be enough. She crouched, setting her hands upon the iron, and counted silently to five before twisting the great links which melted away. When she stood the two exchanged a look, then the man gave a small nod and between them they began to fan out to free as man as they could.
 
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Caliane made landfall behind him.

And there in the open he stood. Robed in only cloth, armed with no steel. Poised despite his fatigue. Refusing any weakness.

Caliane was behind him.

His enemy, approached. Wide was its jaw, hollering in its rage. Its curved sword was held high. Great tufts of dirt flung up in its wake, torn asunder by the fury of its gallop.

He hadn't enough time to recover...

"They must all be destroyed."​

Erën's head seemed to hang for a moment, the composure in his stance lessened. Quickly the centaur approached, and before the danger became too great Erën's poise returned, and changed. He manifested a Shield of Light on his left, and a Javelin of Light in his right. The centaur came near, and with the Shield Erën braced himself, and as he moved to take himself out of the centaur's path its sword was deflected off the crackling image of the Shield.

The centaur rushed past him, but proved intent on ending him first as he wove around for another pass.

Erën hoisted his Javelin up high and flung it with a mighty heave. It moved toward its mark with a crackling brilliance, soon finding its place imbedded deep into the centaurs chest... if only for a moment. The monster could hardly comprehend what had happened before the Javelin ignited and reduced the beast into little more than charred pieces.

And as the Shield of Light dissipated, so too did Erën's apparent readiness, and his head hung some once again...
​
Recompense...​

And still were his eyes pointed down for a moment. As he looked at the ground, he tried to comprehend what had just taken place... it was...

His head snapped up with the sound of stirring from the settlement.

Though he knew what had happened, he didn't fully understand how, or why. But those were things he would focus on after they managed to survive. So resigning that any further combat would undoubtedly result in his demise, he made for the others who were hard at work in freeing themselves. Unfortunately, they had no time to go back for any of the others, only these ones working out here could be freed.

"Caliane," he called as he drew close, "we have to get out of here!"

 
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Caliane glanced up from the anklets she was currently trying to pry free of a young woman's ankles when Erën called her.

We have to go!

She grimaced and looked back down at what she was doing. There was only this and two others. She couldn't leave them in chains, she couldn't! Not like she had been in chains. Her breathing grew more erratic and suddenly her hands turned from a soft glow to white hot. The young woman yelped with surprise as her magic seared through the metal like a hot knife through butter. As soon as she was free she dashed to the others.

"What about them?" she asked, glancing to the others. "We can't leave them here..."

From below a horn sounded.

"Go!" the older man - the first she had freed - insisted as he stepped forward. Others in the group were picking up their scythes and pitchforks with grim determination. "We have friends down there, we can't leave them. But you two can get away."
 
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Erën reached to Caliane. His fingers wrapped around her wrist. The was warmth in them, so much as to be almost - no, they were - hot. It wasn't until he'd brought his hand up into view did he take notice of the redness in his skin, the heat that washed over him like a wave as he became aware of it. Were he any warmer he'd likely be steaming.

"We can come back for them, but we can't help them like this..."

He cast a stern look to the older man, "we will return for whoever remains."

 
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Tears welled up in Caliane's eyes. The young Avariel had a soft heart and though her wish to help as many people as she could was an admirable trait, the fact she did it at a detriment to her own safety was a fatal flaw that had more than once seen her nearly die. It was the combination of the man's grim nod and the urging of her loves tug on her wrist that made her finally relent.

"We'll come back," she echoed Eren's promise and then, reluctantly, turned her back on the remaining slaves as they rushed towards the village to save who they could or die trying. "Let's go," she whispered, now urging him on. She did not want to hear the sounds of battle.

They moved on towards a corpse of trees not far from the scene of their small battle for freedom but enough to give them cover.

"I think I might be able to fly with you a little while, but not long. I saw what looked like another settlement to the south, though I couldn't say if it was just another one like this."
 
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"Then let us hope, that it is not."

Erën was not typically one to leave things solely up to chance - especially when it came to Caliane. Were he not so spent and his mind so tired, he could reach out with the power of his telepathy - which he had slowly been regaining control of - and seek out the inclinations of those that they drew nearer to. Alas, he could conjure no strength, he could not muster the focus needed. So instead, against his better judgements, he remained in consensus with Caliane that their last, best chance to get out of this free and alive was to trust that where they were going was better than where they came from.


Nightfall was upon them, and nestled at the crest of a gentle hill Erën lay, peering over and across the valley to the settlement Caliane had spoken of. His elven eyes saw clearly that these were not the same sort as those that had held them captive. They stood on two legs and behaved as Men and Elves, but they were most certainly not akin to the fairer folk of Falwood. If they were humans, then his physical strength alone would be enough for him to quell the threat of simple villagers. But if they were something else, something stronger and callous toward them, then he was far more uncertain.

He ducked back down, and knelt while he turned and said quietly to Caliane, "I think..." he began, unable to hide the worry in his voice, "we may be safe here, but..."

Even kind folk could be unpredictable when they were afraid. Both he and her were foreign to these lands, and Avariel were still little more than myths in the minds of most people. Between their pointed ears and the beauty of her wings, they were taking a chance no matter who they approached.

He reached out and placed his hand so gently upon her cheek, "...whatever happens, I am with you."

 
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Caliane looked up at her heart as he crouched down besides her behind a thick fan of ferns that hid them from the view of the townsfolk. She leaned into his touch and kissed the inside of his wrist in silent answer that she was with him too. Half of her was tempted to suggest that they camp out here in the wilds and approach fresh eyed tomorrow when they had had time to study who came and went, but she knew the supplies they desperately needed would be within the town.

With a deep breath she pushed herself back to her throbbing feet.

"Let's go then, and try to find a room," she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She did not have much in the way of payment on her but... maybe she could offer to work for somewhere warm. Even a stable loft would do for now.

They trudged down the hillside to the main road and on towards the gates. Her hand tightened on his as the guards spotted them.

"Ho! Who goes there? It is pretty late for travellers," the voice belonged to a soldier who was stationed before the gate. He finished lighting the lantern in his hand then held it up to better peer at the pair. "Forgive me, strangers, but you do not look... well," he frowned with concern and looked beyond them to the horizon. "Did you meet trouble upon our road?"
 
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His breath eased with the gentle touch of her lips on his skin. Wordless as she was, she'd said so much more than her voice ever could in such a small gesture. Or, perhaps it could. She'd amazed him in so many ways before...

He let out his own subtle grunt as he too lifted himself to his feet, and nodded in reply to her as he too held her hand tightly. There was really little other choice. Staying out here like this only invited another ambush, at least if the settlement proved to be a friendly sort then they would have time enough to recover.

His eyes were like sharpened razers upon the guards, but not another part of him seemed so keen. If these guards chose to have a conflict with them...

"Forgive me, strangers, but you do not look... well...
…Did you meet trouble upon our road?"
​
"Horse men," Erën replied, simply and succinct, "we were lucky to escape..."

 
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The guard stepped forward, squinting into the gloom and raised his lantern higher to better light the weary travels at his gate. Once he finally noted the pointed ears and - a second later - that the woman had wings he gaped and his eyes went round. He went to say something, his mouth working like a fish, but he ended up merely shaking his head.

"Get inside, the bands don't tend to get close to our town," he rested a hand on the pommel of his sword with a grimace. "I'll inform the others though in case they try their luck. Safe travels friends." At the Guards wave those unseen in the gloom yanked open the large wooden doors. Once inside they shut with a giant boom that Caliane could feel through the soles of her feet.

"Well... he didn't try to slit our throats. Perhaps they're used to different races," she murmured and glanced around. The town was not yet quiet with people strolling home or meeting up with loved ones and disappearing into taverns. It made sense the biggest cluster of inns was right by the entrance but Caliane would feel safer further from the gate. She tugged Erën on down the road.

A few people they passed did a double take or stopped to whisper. Only one outright pointed at her wings and she offered a tight lipped smile in response. Nobody approached them or reached for a weapon, they seemed to be merely a curiosity than a cause for concern. Still, she tried to keep her wings as tucked to her back as possible. In the end they passed three other inns before reaching a quieter one with a rickety wooden sign with a picture of a golden lyre.

"Shall we try here?"
 
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Erën didn't need to read Caliane's mind to know what she was thinking, and he needn't even say that he agreed. Getting as far away from the walls of this town was exactly what he had in mind, especially because he imagined they might be staying for a little while. This thought only grew as they made their way through the street and the people seemed far from volatile at their presence. He felt strongly that so long as they walked their lane, all would be well.

"Shall we try here?"
​
He looked up at the sign as he breathed a quiet sigh through his nose. He studied it for a moment as it creaked in the soft evening breeze. He held her hand a little tighter then.

"Alright," he said, nodding his head once.

Then, this time, he led the way up toward the inn's entry, and pushed the door open and stepped inside. There was very little happening inside, and it was very quiet. But, behind the counter there stood an older gentlemen with a spectacle held up to his eye. He was reviewing a piece of parchment he had laid in front of him there.

He only half noticed the two enter, and started saying with a double-take, "Oh, good-" the man set the lens down and addressed them more properly, only to have his voice catch when his eyes began to take in all of who stood before him. Tall, pointed ears, wings...

"Good... evening," he managed, his voice growing quiet with uncertainty.

 
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Caliane offered what she hoped was her warmest smile though it was fringed with her weariness. Both of them were battered and bruised, covered in dust and mud with rumbled, half-torn clothes. It spoke of a story and an unpleasant one at that. She just hoped he could see past that or at least that he did not think they deserved their misfortune.

"Good evening," she replied and glanced up towards her Heart before back to the innkeep. "We wondered if you had a room for the night, perhaps longer...?"

The man blinked his large owlish eyes.

"We have no coin on us, but we can offer our services. I can cook, clean. Erën can chop wood for your fires. Even just a hay loft..."

The Innkeep seemed to shake himself.

"N-no, no, nonsense you are not animals. The Saint knows we have enough empty beds at the moment," he smiled shakily then called over his shoulder without taking his eyes off the pair. "WENDY! WENDY, MY SWEET WE HAVE GUESTS!"
 
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There was something about how this Innkeeper reacted to them that intrigued Erën. It didn't seem as though their appearance was as foreign to him as it seemed the others they had passed by on the streets. In fact, he seemed merely more surprised than anything. Soon, it became quite clear when the one whom he had called out to named Wendy soon made herself present. She appeared from behind a curtain leading into the back behind the counter, likely their living space.

The first things he noticed were her ears, sharp and prominent.

His eyes quickly studied her features. Angled and precise. And he saw clearly too that her expression was one of a great deal of surprise, like the Innkeeper.

"You are elves," she blurted out, looking less so at Erën and more to Caliane, "you are an Avariel."


They'd not been offered a room. Instead they'd been escorted into the Innkeeper's own home, which itself seemed more than enough to accommodate a few guests. Over the next hour after they'd arrived, Wendy and the Innkeeper, who introduced himself as William, prepared them new clothes and readied the fires for a warm bath. As William tended to the final tasks Wendy sat with Erën and Caliane over a pot of tea as they explained what had brought them here.

"That is truly terrible, I myself had an altercation with the centaurs when I first came to these lands, but I was lucky to avoid anything so harsh," Wendy sipped from her tea.

 
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The tiredness had some how worsened now that Caliane knew she was safe. The last of the adrenaline she had been clinging to in case of a fight or a need for flight escaped her with her contented sigh as she took the first sip of her jasmine tea. The innkeepers wife smiled as if in understanding before pouring Erën his own cup.

"The guards were right though, they won't bother you here. The walls are too well defended and despite their attempts before they have never breached them. The people here believe it is because of their blessing from the Dynast, but," her smile was reflected in the twinkle of her eyes as she paused to sip her own tea. "I would rather bet on the trebuchet."

"Don't let our neighbours hear you talking like that, Wendy," William returned fretting with his hands. He placed a tender kiss to his wife's forehead before sliding into the well worn cushions beside her.

Caliane smiled as the two quietly bickered over the matter for a brief time; clearly this was a frequent one and one that she was glad to see held no bite or venom. She glanced to Erën and let one wing gently brush across his back in an intimate touch; we're safe, her eyes and relieved smile seemed to say.

"Go on now, the bath is all ready. You'll be wanting a good soak after what you've been through no doubt," William nodded to the stairs. "We'll get some dinner going."
 
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It had taken some time, but the slouch in his posture as he sat revealed a relief Erën rarely showed. With his arm propped against the arm of his chair and his cheek pressed firmly against his closed fist, he looked up and offered a tired smile as Wendy poured him a cup. He would reach for it... soon. He need only muster the energy. But the smell of jasmine filling his nose was certainly enough to spur him before long. He reached for his tea as William entered in a half-feigned fluster. He gave a gentle chuckle as the two started to discuss the sensitivities of the locals, and returned Caliane's affection with a similar smile in his eyes.

He drank of his tea.

They were safe, or at least it truly seemed so. Wendy hadn't said much more about it, but it was clear she was familiar with both of their sort. Erën couldn't be sure, but he got the feeling that she was the only elf they were likely to encounter here, and he found it oddly fortuitous that they would meet with someone so benevolent toward them. Her husband, too, obviously bore no ill toward them, even inviting them into their home. It was as if...

"Go on now, the bath is all ready..."
​
He turned his head to Caliane and smiled before moving to lift himself from his seat. It proved a far more difficult task than he had anticipated...

 
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"I've got you."

Caliane hadn't been forced to toil and work the last few days; it was the only positive thing she could say about her handler. He had tended her wing with care and fed her well whilst her love had worked the fields, chopped wood and run at the whim of a whip. So whilst she was tired, her Avariel bones more brittle than his and thus taking longer to heal, she could summon the strength now to help him up. Standing first she took his hands in hers and tugged him to his feet then looped an arm about his waist for support. William made as if to stand and help but Cali shook her head with a small smile and he sat back down.

Slowly they shuffled to the room William had just vacated.

Inside was a bed and a big iron tub with steam curling up to the roof that sat by the fire. Caliane sighed as though she were already in the water.

"There's room enough for us both," saving them an argument of who got to go first. She helped him over to the bed and gently set him on the edge then crouched before him to undo his boots. "Nothing a good bath can't fix."
 
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Erën was in exactly as much need as Caliane read, and without her aid he very likely would not have been able to bring himself to his feet. He was utterly spent, and the way his weight leaned on her so told as much. He too was relieved at the sight of what awaited them in their borrowed room, as though he still did not believe it so until he saw. But his own sigh waited until he was once again seated.

His sigh was followed by yet another exasperated breath, and then finally a smile, "whatever you say, hbeeti."

She was just as tired as he, he knew this, and yet she was still so giving to him. He could only watch as she dutifully removed his boots, urging him to stand again only to finish the task of disrobing him. Normally, if she were to be so careful of him, he would ensure the same for her, but such a time was not now. It was all he could do to keep himself standing it seemed, and when he was ready he was ferried over and into the bath without so much as a word.

He settled into the water with an almost painful groan, but how he so quickly slumped down with his arms resting along the bathtub's edge with his head hung back ensured no amount of warmth in these waters was too much.

His head turned somewhat limply toward Caliane and one eye peeked open some as he awaited her.

"I don't think it will be quite warm enough for you," he teased.

When one could manifest as the embodiment of fire itself, he wagered there were few things too hot.

 
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Caliane glanced up from where she was unlacing her own boots perched upon the edge of the bed. In the firelight every edge of her face was softened and as her smile creased the corner of her eyes they caught the firelight and sparkled like emeralds carved from the earth. She raised a hand and pushed a lock of red hair behind one pointed ear then kicked both boots off with care that betrayed the pain she was still in.

"I promise I won't warm it to the point you begin to sympathise with lobsters."

She stood and began to unwrap the rags she had been given to wear by the centaurs. Deep rivets of black were flayed into her skin where the demons claws or weapons had bit into the flesh of the Soulfires true form. In the depths fire sparked as her body fought the darkness even now from spreading further. Mottled bruises and other cuts were a mere backdrop for the tapestry he had left behind.

Scooping up the rags and those Erën had discarded she walked to the fire and threw them in before turning to chamber with care into the tub. It was an awkward fit with her wings but after a little shifting she draped them over the rim like her lover did his arms then sighed in contentment as the heat sunk into her bones.

"I did not expect to find an elf here," she mused out loud with her eyes closed.
 
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He managed a quiet chuckle at the mention of lobsters, but his amusement fell short when he began to feel... somewhat famished. Now why did you have to mention that? He smiled at the thought and pushed the feeling aside, distracting himself with watching Caliane as she readied herself. At first his eyes studied her with their typical, playful interest. In the quiet company of only they two, he often revealed much more of himself than he ever would have in the sight of others, displaying a much more relaxed expression of his affinities for her. But as she removed the worn garments provided by the captors, the light in his eyes dimmed some.

Caliane had battled with the demon Arkhivom with great fury, and it too had battled back with the same. Its lingering marks on her were a testament to the evil it embodied, leaving lasting wounds that even the Soulfire had to struggle to contend with and mend.

He mused the depth of what it was they had faced, and what they were without doubt, to face again.

His thoughts returned to the now as Caliane finally, to his relief, joined him in the warm waters. He smiled again, watching as she began to find herself at ease. He too became more at ease now, having held a tension in himself he had not quite realized until now.

"Nor did I, in all my years I've never been in these lands, nor have I heard of any elf-kind who had," he was not quite so naïve to think that none had ever been, but he did think it a place one would rarely go. Given by how they'd been received, he imagined her to be something of an enigma, "she even knew of your kind... we are quite fortunate..."

 
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Calianes brows furrowed as he hit upon the point that bothered her the most.

"But how...?" She shook her head to dispell the question. "No, it doesn't matter so long as they mean us no harm," Erëns kind had remembered them, why should Wendy's not have? Their kinds had long memories and a shared one. Perhaps a song or book had remained that the secret keepers had missed in their erasure of the Avariel from the world. But there hadn't even been a sense of surprise beyond the initial meeting. Like she had met one of her people before...

Cali pushed the thoughts away dismayed at herself for thinking any kind of ill towards one who had shown them kindness. Was this what the world had done to her? The demon and the monsters? Made her doubt goodness? She refused to let that rot fester and so purged it from her mind.

"What happened to you in the camp?" She asked softly, brushing her fingers over his skin to act as a balm against her words. "Did they hurt you further?" And even though her words were soft the Soulfire burned deep within her eyes when she looked at him leaving no doubt what it would do if they had.
 
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He canted his head at her momentary show of confusion, and softly smiled. It was curious to him too. To him, it made sense as to why his people could recall the winged folk so well, what with the memory of the whole of their people being accessible to them, albeit more vague the further into memory one delved. But in the fading time the records were made, and with the reading of the written word could the memory become more clear. Such was not the case for most other folk, or so he understood. Perhaps then some legends remained elsewhere, or perhaps there were more Avariel abroad in Arethil now than Caliane was aware of.

But to her point, for the moment, it did not matter. All that mattered to him was the soft brush of her flesh against his, the fire of vengeful love that burned in those enthralling eyes. His hand tilted to brush against her skin too, and softness settled onto his features as his smile deepened in its content.

"No, my love," he began, and while he spoke his eyes studied her, "in spite of their cruelty, whatever harm they could cause me is nothing in the wake of what we battled before," he stirred, and sat himself up a little more properly, reaching for a clean cloth that was hung there for them over the tub's edge, "I had hoped to learn more about them in our time, but their speech is of a harsh and broken tongue," he shook his head, clearly unable to discern much, "simple creatures." Though there was malice in him toward the beasts, there was no fire in his voice.

He doused the cloth in the warm water and gave her a gentle wave to beckon her closer to him, "come. Tell me, how were you treated?"

 
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