Quest The Ancient Dweller

Organization specific roleplay for governments, guilds, adventure groups, or anything similar
The Elves and the Half-Elf were most cautious, a good start. The Human Lazule seemed near death, but was at the head of the group. When the Half-Elf inquired as to his intent and knowledge, he felt no need not to reply.

"I am already aware as to the make of the path you tread. It is one I myself have taken once or twice. But yes, my skills as a scout would be of value here." He tucked his wings and fell in stride with the small company. "If we can push hard for a few more miles, there is a cave above the road. All would comfortably fit, assuming we can get your destrier to climb. It would be ideal, but it would put us past dark in the open. I will fly to the hill ahead and return. Have an answer by then."

Without so much as a hesitation, he ran ahead and spread wings for flight. While not the fastest or most graceful of flying creatures, it was clear that there was power behind each flap, a heavy sound on the wind.
 
And thus their band had grown to be one more in number.

Words spoken quietly as she watched the Raaka take flight. "It shall come."

Yes. The coalescing of light. The assembly of those righteous, those who carried the sacred flame. Deliverers from evil, inevitably drawn to face it. Zeng would be made to account for his atrocities. For the accounting always came. Such was promised. Such was their duty to fulfill.

Lazule's hands stopped shaking upon the saddle horn.

* * * * *​

They pushed on. And with Rekh's direction found the aforementioned cave in the cliff face. A general dismounting, Lazule carefully lowering herself down from Aless' warhorse. Her insides had cooled, but a tenderness still in her reddened skin. An opportunity now that they would rest for the night to peruse the potions and salves she had collected.

Lazule stepped to the cave entrance. Turned and glanced back over the darkened river valley, the greens of the day replaced by a coating of black, making all she surveyed formless save the top outline of the far mountains to the east side.

Somewhere, out there and some northerly distance away, was Zeng. A minor relief. That Zeng was not as the minions he commanded. That he, like the small band which pursued him, required rest.

Looks to her fellows in the pursuit. Little more than silhouettes in the darkness. Defined as much by sound as by sight, even with her eye adjusted to the night.

An adjusting of her traveling pack. Her hand reaching under the flap. The firestarter kit on top, her hand identifying it through touch alone. She pulled it out of the pack and opened the hardened leather case and collected the flint and the steel and put the kit back into her pack. She had no torch to light, but it did not matter.

She struck the steel to the flint and sparks jumped. Only, they didn't disappear. As she struck the steel again and again the sparks all stopped momentarily in the air and turned and coalesced until a small orb of orange light had been formed; the orb floating before Lazule, revealing her face from the blackness. A low level of luminosity, but something by which they could see until a proper campfire inside the cave was made.

A small cantrip. Not strenuous to maintain, and even less so for the short amount of time it would be used.

She held the flint and steel in one hand now and guided the orb with her other. Cradled the orb close to her chest, her back to the north, screening the light from being seen from that direction with her body.

She faced the Raaka. Said to him, "Thank you, Rekh. For your g-guidance."

And Lazule turned and walked into the cave.



(((Figured a scene change was in order. Chance for them all to break bread with one another. Let me know if you still had something to do prior to this and I'll edit.)))
 
And so they’d made it. The Raaka's word had proven true and they found their promised shelter. It was indeed a welcome sight. Having dismounted, Aidathin helped Te'leis into the cave, following after Lazule. Te'leis had grown very weak during their travel, the surrendering of her strength to one outside of the Shoraes proving far more taxing than anticipated. With rest, she would be fine. With Te'leis comfortably inside, Aidathin worked at escorting the horses within. It was too risky to let even these horses – who often roamed freely – to remain by their lonesome.

Erën meanwhile remained outside, opting to keep watch until their camp was established and the fear of detection alleviated.

He watched out into the night, the distant roar of the river still falling upon his ears. No more than the rustle of hidden creatures lurking in the dark on their hunt for food disturbed him. It was quiet, and it seemed that if Zeng had sent minions to encroach on their rest then they had failed to follow their trail.

At least for the now.
 
Aless helped Lazule down off Araxa’s back. The warhorse had been steady across broken ground. He didn’t like it, but battlefields were seldom perfectly flat and so he was able to navigate the game trail masquerading as a path without issue. Her current ward wasn’t heavy enough to trouble Aless, even in armor. She was mostly made of iron muscle at this point, farming no easier than training for war—and she did both, just in case, for times like these.

“Steady,” Aless said to Lazule as she helped her new acquaintance sit down, tone still brusque. Once she was safely seated, Aless removed her saddle from Araxa, not worried about him ranging far. She left his blanket on, the smell of rain in the air. From there she unpacked slightly: a bedroll, flint and steel with char-cloth in a small metal box, a wrapped package that held iron rations, and oil for her armor and sword.

Every movement was methodical, practiced, even stripping off her armor to reveal what lay underneath. Her gambeson was silk rather than wool and linen, reinforced at the joints with fine chain. It made her difficult to cut in places that her normal armor was weaker. A gift from a friend who knew far more of such things than she did. She missed Olaust. The old dwarf had taught her many things about what it meant to be at peace.

“We should have watches through the night,” Aless said. “Lest we be caught unaware. We have enough people even if Lazule and Te’leis just rest.”

If she was being honest with herself, she was almost hoping for a challenge from some creatures. It had been too long since her last true battle. Bandits hardly counted.

She crushed the thought. You are supposed to strive to be at peace.
 
Rekh sat in the cave undoing the straps that held his breastplate in place. At the cave's entrance, one of the Elves stood watch as Lazule lit up her small light. It was...peaceful. If one could ever be at peace while in pursuit of a necromancer. But everyone gathered knew the path that they were on, and were at peace with their possible doom.

Rekh struggled with the lowest strap and turned his head around to look at it directly. With a few moments of silent struggle, he had loosed the knot. Undoing the cloth beneath was a far easier endeavor, and soon he found himself free of his constraints, only a simple waistcloth now fastened to his person. He then arrayed his armor and sword in a small, free-standing mound. He spread his wings as much as the cave allowed, then covered his head and armor while he knelt before the mound, muttering the strange and ancient language of Nirthani; a beautiful and sad song muffled by the covering wings.

When he had finished, he turned from his makeshift shrine and joined the others for food. "You are right Half-Elf, watches would be most appropriate each night in pursuit of this beast." He gestured with a wing while continuing to eat his rations. "That one wishes to stand the first. I would gladly take up the mid-watch. Lady Human, you and that Elf should not be burdened with a watch. You will both need your strength for the necromancer."

He listened to what the others had to say, some saying even nothing at all, before he added, "Should I fall and some of you survive this battle ahead of us, I have a request. There is a place holy to me that I wish my body be taken, but it is not easily accessed."
 
Lazule observed the cave. Eye trailing along the wall and the ceiling and back down the other wall in the dim orange light of her spell. Some old and scattered things on the ground. The remains of tiny bones, once chewed on. Perhaps a bear had settled here in the past winter or a pack of wolves at some point but whatever animal it had been had gone.

The cave would suit their purposes well enough.

Lazule guided the orb of coalesced sparks away from her body and let it float freely in the cave. It hovered there as she turned and exited the cave. The darkness blanketing the ground but she did not need her sight so much. Her boots bumped into a fallen branch here, there, and she gathered a bundle along with some dried leaves for kindling and walked back inside and toward her orb. Not much would be needed for now. Only enough to get the fire going.

And she crouched and assembled the campfire with what materials she had grabbed and guided the orb back down to float above her palm. And with a gentle turning of her hand she guided the orb then onto the branches and the kindling and immediately the orb perished and birthed fire. The fire growing and the light it gave surpassing that of the orb made of simple sparks.

She stared into it for a time. A longing gaze, like an awaited reuniting. One that stole her away from the present as Aless and Rekh spoke. At the words 'Lady Human' she blinked and looked about and her eye found Rekh there sans armor. Watches. For the night. Herself and Te'leis exempt.

"O-Oh. Yes, of course."

Erën stood watch even now. His dedication admirable.

Lazule sat down on her heels and unshouldered her traveling pack and set it down and opened it and took out a ration of salted meat. Nibbled on it. Each little bite delicate. She always ate infrequent tiny portions, shadows of whole meals. Perhaps after she was done she would look through the potions she had collected.

Small glances about as she ate revealed the Raaka's shrine. Evidence of his way of being. The manifesting of values held and purpose acknowledged. She knew not the ways of Rekh or Aless or Erën or Aidathin or Te'leis, save only that all of theirs so converged as to bring them together in pursuit of Zeng. Her own purpose was quite clear. Zeng was a monster. And thus he had to be destroyed. Her domain was that of the Hunt. The seeker and the slayer of those wicked.

Rekh had a request. Lazule looked to Aless, then back to Rekh. Said, "What is this p-place you speak of?"
 
Te’leis bowed her head in thanks to her comrades. Their kindness would not be ignored. She only regretted that she would not be of much help this night, and with how close they had come to Zeng’s campaign, she was uneasy with the prospect of being caught in such a state. But at least she was among friends. While tired she found it difficult for her eyes not to wander, but often her attention drew to Aless.

She couldn’t help dwelling on what things might have been like for her, how life had treated one such as she. Seeing the Half-Elf was a difficult reminder of the past, of things now doomed - eternally unresolved. But still, she offered a kind smile.

“You're from Vel-Anir,” she questioned, though she was fairly certain, “I'm told the walls are a sight to behold."

She had personally never been, but her impressions from Erën seemed quite certain.

Aidathin finished tending the elves’ gear, then he went to situating their steeds as comfortably as could be allowed. He questioned Aless’ decision to let Araxa out alone, but she likely knew best. These horses on the other hand, while loyal, were free spirited and quite wild on their own. They would likely travel far if left unattended for long.

He was of course also willing to take watch at whatever time, but he still failed to speak. He was a quiet one, that could be certain.

He eventually settled himself down near to Te’leis, who sat with her back rested against the rock. Aidathin handed to her a packet wrapped in blue cloth, bound with silver twine. Opened, it revealed an assortment of vibrantly coloured berries and what looked like small root vegetables. He also enjoyed such a packet.

He still said nothing, following the conversation with only his eyes. His brow rose with Rehk’s request. He found it strange to foretell one’s own death, preferring to let what will be, be. But he could appreciate that his beliefs were likely just very different and in his own way felt honoured to have been included in such a request.

Erën meanwhile found his place outside of the cave’s entrance, his claim of the first watch secure. And though he did indeed mean to protect his comrades, there was something else which fueled his desire to stand first. Where Zeng’s minions may have failed to follow, an obnoxious discomfort did not. Since its grasp first took hold of him in Orenhaven, it remained clung to him like a shadow. The memory of the girl.

It haunted him.

For it was that at first, he may have seen only what remained of a lifeless child but when he’d seen her again, he had perceived another thing. Not the bloodied mess of a brown-haired human, invisibly strung up before him like a puppet - but he saw the shining light of an elvish youngling.

But to see what he had was impossible, and it disturbed him to his core.

How could one such as Zeng conjure such an illusion.

How could he have known?
 
“I am,” Aless said in response to Te’leis’s comment. Her birthplace was branded onto her soul, a large part of the crucible that had burned her early life, her hope and innocence, as fuel to form the steel of the woman she became. She had very few fond memories of her home city and almost all of them were wound up with bitter victories, things she had fought desperately against and won even if it meant breaking her own bones. Being half-elf had done her less than no favors. “The walls look different from the inside than the outside. Doubly so their shadows.”

She turned the ring through her left earlobe, willing herself not to think too had about it. She was trying to be different than that old life. She stepped to the edge and whistled for Araxa, who trotted over. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who understood. For all her many flaws, Aless loved animals. She checked his hooves carefully, seeing no sign for concern even after rough country. He was the smartest warhorse she’d ever trained, but also one of the more vicious. It was hard to believe sometimes when someone saw Aless pet his nose like some nanny mare’s. He was not so genteel for someone else.

“I do not mind a pre-dawn watch,” Aless said as she checked over her horse. She had intended on being courteous, dividing her own sleep in half so the others could have their uninterrupted lengths, but she would not object to another taking a mid-watch. “I have keen eyes in the dark.” Elven vision, one of the few gifts her mother had been able to pass down.

She didn’t begrudge Te’leis her curiosity or Erën’s distaste or really anyone’s reactions. Nothing was overtly hostile, which was all she cared about right now. However, she could do without being called ‘Half-Elf’. It was her nature, but that didn’t mean she liked being defined by it. She turned to face the raaka. “My name is Aless, Rekh,” she said. “As I use your name, I would prefer you use mine.”

She could see Erën from where she stood, measuring him with her gaze. He seemed disturbed, which she supposed was to be expected given everything. Still, she looked to Te’leis, who seemed to be the talkative one of the elves. She weighed her words and then discarded them. She had no right to pry.

Instead, she turned her gaze to Lazule. She waited until after the young woman had spoken to Rekh to ask, “Do you have a bedroll in that pack of yours? If not, I have little need of mine. I sleep better sitting up.” What she really meant was that she slept better with her back against something, particularly around strangers.
 
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Rekh was rather loathe to bring up the mountain of Harut and the holy shrine atop it, but he knew the full risk of the task ahead of them. If he were to meet his end with the Necromancer or his minions, then his blade,and if possible his body should be returned to that place.

"It is a shrine, at the peak of a mountain, east of here in the Spine. From the west, the edges are shear and it has a triple peak. The shrine is on the highest, in a cave near the top. It will be difficult at best to get to, but it is not meant for walking. Or if you could find one of my kin, and tell them the same. Harut watches the place, and will let the bearer of this blade pass with ease." Rekh indicated with reverence to the sword that had been placed at the top of his makeshift shrine. "It is called Harut’arash, and it is the goddess' gift. Its magic a bane to those that would offend her."

“My name is Aless, Rekh. As I use your name, I would prefer you use mine.”

Rekh did not flinch at the subtle irritation from Aless, and blinked slowly as he turned towards her.

"My apologies, Aless." He dipped his head slightly in a bow. "I meant no insult by not inquiring as to your name. I believe that if a name is not given freely, it should not be asked. The goddess taught our kind more than just how to fly, but how to deceive and be deceived. Names ungiven are not mine to take, especially in such a quest as ours." Again with a shallow bow, he added, "Thank you, Aless."
 
The crackling of the fire before her.

And Lazule listened to Rekh with no small amount of fascination. The shrine he spoke of. Harut. A Goddess. A being of divinity. A familiarity with the concept, even if in this instance it was staggering.

Father was perhaps a God to her. For he had given her life. This he had done in a way unique to the methods of his kin and other peoples of Arethil. And she did look upon Father with awe and reverence and love, even if such feelings were not returned either in kind or in degree. An extension, perhaps, to see all of humanity as Gods and Goddesses, for Father was among their number and they in his company. And had Father himself not come to be through the long and extended efforts of those who had come before him? A viewing of Father's achievement as a collective endeavor, to which Father shall of course be credited with the performing of the most vital of roles, and due grievance upon the sacrifices of the six, yes, this manner of viewing garnered appreciation for all Mankind.

But to think of another God who was above your God? A God of Gods? Thoughts failed, and the mind fell short.

A wondering. If Rekh's Goddess was a being of flesh and blood too? Like Father? Had Rekh met her? Did she, Harut, hold awe and reverence and love for her creation? Was she even real?

"I will t-take your body, Rekh," Lazule said. "Or s-see to it that it is so taken."

She wished not for the Raaka to perish. But should he, and should Lazule yet live, therein perhaps lay a chance to find out.

A few more small bites of the salted meat.

And Aless had a question. Lazule looked up from the meager meal in her hands. "Oh. No, I d-do not. The Knights I t-traveled with all simply slept in their armor. They w-worried, and rightly so, about readiness m-moreso than comfort. The bedrolls of the Templars and m-my own were d-damaged in the fighting." A pause. "Thank you, A-Aless. For your continued kindness."

Another bite of the salted meat. It was hardly half-finished when she wrapped the ration back up and put it away in her pack. A glance then to Te'leis. To Aidathin. A lingering curiosity, sparked by Rekh's request.

A nervous hesitation, even to ask. A periodic flicking of her eye from one elf to the other. But she did ask.

"Do y-you have Gods?"

A glance even to Aless then. Her ears were shorter than those of Te'leis and Aidathin, and there was likely significance in that. And she affirmed that was from Vel Anir. Perhaps she shared the same God or Goddess as the other elves, if at all?
 
Te’leis nodded, then laid her head back and turned her attention to Rehk’s explanation. She wanted to talk more with Aless but was finding herself too exhausted. She was content to listen for now. She’d never heard of his god, but she was interested in what he had to say none the less.

Aidathin thought it may prove perilous to attempt a climb like the Raaka described but it would certainly seem reasonable to seek out another of the winged folk to complete such a quest. In any case, he hoped to avoid the need for such rituals. They all surely did.

Aidathin turned his face to Lazule now. To her question he felt compelled to finally break his silence.

“Yes,” though he spoke quietly there was a firmness there that reverberated throughout their quaint encampment, “most notably Tychan the Shining, and Nykios the Mighty.” He flipped the cloth packet he held closed again and set it aside, “Fal’Addareth is also quite dear to the Order: for amid her roots was the first Elf made.”

“So it is written,” Erën turned his head to chime in, keeping his voice low, and then turned back.

Te’leis lazily waved her hand at him. She knew it was not as though he did not believe as they, only that recent events had stirred many doubts in him – and rightfully so. He had not been the only one.

“Yes, and it is written,” Aidathin confirmed, “that many millennia ago, when the gods walked among our ancestors, a great war took place. The Dark Ones, a great and terrible evil, struck deep into the heart of Falwood, and all of Arethil. The darkness reached even unto the Great Tree itself. And there, as Her children fought and died before Her, She called out. In an hour when hope seemed all by gone, they appeared in a blinding light: Tychan the Shining who, having perceived the horror that lie ahead, had also besought the aid of Nykios the Mighty.’ Had it not been for their intervention, our people would have been left decimated.”

“It is said that on that day, where Her very roots drive into the forest, they fought alongside the Elves. And on that day, Nykios’ roar sent fear into the very heart of evil itself.” Erën was quite proud of that, he was fond of Nykios.

Te’leis let out a quiet sigh, “I apologise. I am Te’leis, this is Aidathin, and he,” gesturing toward the third, “is Erën. We are of the Order of the Undying Light. It is our duty to remember, and to remain vigilant, and to rid the world of plights such as the one we chase after now.” She looked back and forth between Aless and Lazule, “but what of you, is there something that also guides your way?”

Erën continued to listen for a time but he focused outward, his eyes making sure to find Araxa occasionally.

And as the evening would continue with conversation, rest and otherwise, he maintained a vigilant watch. He stayed relatively still, moving only to reveal what from one angle was obscured and then shortly after moving back. He could see quite well from their location, but the surround was not without obscurities. But that was little concern.

His thoughts still dwelt on the girl. Less now of what he thought he had seen, and more so of the tangible implication. What use could a small child be to a mage like this? Not even the nimblest of footfalls would escape his ears. What could he gain with such a powerless avatar.

Then a sound, a rustling below. He turned.

Nothing.
 
The lesson on elven mythology was at least somewhat interesting, if foreign to Aless. Most things religious were.

Aless found little comfort in the gods, if she was being honest with herself. Her life had never been connected to them. How could she place her faith in some merciful higher powers when they had done nothing to save her, to save so many? Making obeisance to some great evil power seemed equally foolish. She had yet to meet anything with a heart darker than another mortal's...and few as dark as her own had been. She unwrapped an extra blanket as she laid out her bedroll for Lazule. "I do not look to gods to light my path," she said quietly. "My fate is my own, whatever that may mean when it is finished."

There were few followers of the gods of light that Aless could understand. She admired some of them, perhaps even most of them, but often those she encountered had such naivety towards the world. She didn't look down on them for it at all: it was good that they had never seen the depths of what people were capable of, the cruelty and malice and suffering. It was just that she couldn't fit in that world.

At least her little village was understanding, mostly in that they left her with space enough to breathe and few questions. Nagar was the only one there who knew who she was, given he'd been with her for five years before the end of her career. The orc had settled in surprisingly well to pastoral life, though he was a hunter and warden rather than a farmer, probably motivated by the fact that he had a wife and two step-children to take care of.

While gods were never the forefront of her thoughts, however, contemplation of the soul often was. She had plenty of time to sit and think without charging into war every minute of every day. She could still feel that old world inside of her, the dark beast curled around her heart ever ready to dig in its spurs, its teeth, its claws. There was no cure-all that could cleanse a lifetime of malevolence away. That beast of her own making would die when she did and not before. The best she could do, the only way she could approach atonement, would be to protect as many people as she could. She had cut the forests back in times of fire, chased off wolves and bears approaching too close, driven bandits away from their little road...and now she was chasing undead, even after everything her last brush with necromancy had brought her.

It was entirely possible that all those blows to her helm in battle had bludgeoned her into stupidity at some point.

Aless took her seat next to the opening of their little camp, wrapping the extra blanket around her shoulders before leaning back. She left her hand on Woe as she closed her eyes. She could sleep almost anywhere in any condition, like a good soldier, but her sleep was light enough that a wrong breath by some enemy creeping into camp could wake her. Araxa was a good second alarm and moved up to stand by where she was sitting, ready to defend her from any green growing thing in the nearby vicinity.

"I admire you for your faith," Aless said after a long moment of silence. "It is not easy."

She was not looking forward to her dreams.
 
Te’leis, Aidathin, Erën, Aless, Lazule. These were were the bearers of this most terrible task. Rekh knew that many of his kind would have him feathered for breaking bread with Elves; but the danger was too great for any one people. He had heard of the rituals and gods of the Elves, he knew of the hate that he had once held for them, and he felt connection to the three that now held them close. He would aid as best he could, and if death should claim them, he would invoke their gods on their behalf. The rift between the two races was far too great for one individual, but all needed dignity in death. This task ahead would require the expertise of all involved, and success was still a far thing. With luck, the night's rest would help Te'leis and Lazule, both in need of recovery. He began to center himself for his rest, for it would not be a lasting one.

After Aless' response, Rekh felt it in his bones, hollow as they may be. His reply was whispered before his eyes shut, barely audible but for a breath. "It is faith only if it is hard. Gods cannot shape us, they can only show us how we can shape ourselves. It is as easy for the ore to will itself into steel."

And with that, he slept.
 
Lazule listened to the stories. Her look open and receptive. Taking in what Aidathin and Erën and Te'leis had to say of their Gods and Goddesses and...even a Great Tree. And it seemed that their Gods had abandoned them too. A shared sorrow, in this. Lazule herself did not know what had become of Father. Where he had gone or what had happened to him. Perhaps he yet lived. Perhaps it would be her duty to remember him too, as the elves remembered their Gods.

And Te'leis asked the question of her. Of Aless.

Aless' answer was somewhat startling. Lazule regarded her with a curious bewilderment. She had never once conceived of the idea, let alone considered it until now. From the first moments of her life, when there was naught but sensory input, a lacking even of thoughts and words to express them, there had been Father. And he had shown her the way. How could it even be that Aless' fate was her own? Did she lack purpose? Such boundless freedom seemed utterly terrifying, even so in the mere pondering of it. For there was surety and comfort in the confines of dedication. Joy in unwavering devotion.

What was life without purpose? For if the Gods of the elves had imbued them with such, Harut having imbued Rekh with such, and Father having imbued Lazule with such, what did it mean for Aless to forsake this divine bestowment? What terrible torments did this forsaking visit upon her?

It couldn't come from within. Purpose. It simply could not.

Lazule looked to Te'leis then. Said, "I have a way of b-being. And it was s-shown to me by my God." A steadying. "I am the Hunter. I am the Slayer. And there is nothing but that. In this purpose so clear I find only joy."

A reaffirmation of faith. And contented smile born of it.

She collected her traveling pack then and shifted onto the bedroll Aless had lain out for her. A rummaging through the pack by the light of the fire. Taking out the bottles and examining them one by one. Some had small labels, adorned with symbols or words. Some didn't. She uncorked those that did not and carefully sniffed them. In time, she settled on one of the potions and drank the contents of the bottle and placed it back into her pack. It ought to aid in the recovery of her strength, the healing of the red burns across her body.

She lay down on the bedroll. Heard Aless speak softly and looked to her, the light of the campfire gracing her body just so. Lazule did not know to whom she had spoken. Perhaps she had to all of them.

Sympathy, for the suffering she perceived from Aless. Hers was surely a road wrought with hardship, and there she had not even the clarity of bestowed guidance for solace.

Lying on her back on the bedroll, hands rested on top of her chest, Lazule closed her eyes.

And gave thanks by quietly whispering the names of the six.

Lena. Adela. Zachariah. Ulric. Liam. Elijah.

And she lay still.
 
Te'leis pondered their words. Aless was one without faith, and Lazule was bound to destroy what she too would agree, was darkness. Rekh was also set upon a path, like the elves. For all the grievances their peoples had in past times, here and now they did not seem so different. These elves could respect this Raaka and would fight alongside him as if he were their own.

It was not their way to condemn anyone for their faith or even their lack thereof, only to carry on as the gods would have them do, in righteousness.

Indeed, serving the gods' will was not an easy undertaking, but it did offer a strength; a firm foundation for which they could set their feet. Aless had gone without such comfort, with likely nothing but sand to stand upon at times. A lonely path.

But now Te’leis too was ready to resign for the night. Before she settled herself in more comfortably, she looked one last time toward Aless. It is you who is to be admired, she thought. Then she turned her gaze back toward the light.

Aidathin meanwhile remained upright. It would seem he was not quite ready for sleep. He instead gazed into the fire and tended it. His eyes looked up to Erën from time to time. Through the connection these three possessed he could feel a restless uncertainty in his friend, one that seemed separate from what darkness they all knew they were to face. Aidathin frowned. He was unable to truly read Erën’s mind, that was an ability none of these three possessed, but he could feel there was a familiar sorrow that surrounded him and set him apart. But he had seen much and knew his friend quite well, and he only hoped that the turmoil Erën felt was not what he was inclined to believe.

Then he heard her whispers… six names. And she a seventh. Hmm… He began to ponder significances there, losing himself in the flames he tended.

Erën looked over to Aless, who had chosen to rest near the caves opening where he could see her. Indeed, his first impression had been harsh, and now even he in this moment felt a mourning for his earlier behaviour.

Who was he to pass such unfair judgement?

He huffed at himself and resumed his watch. He simply knew no other way.

Some time later, after the others had fallen to rest - another sound, distant. A beckoning.

Again, the heat of the fires in Orenhaven rose up around him, and his vision became hazed from invisible smoke. Again, a thirst. His eyes traced down the path and then he found himself there, back near the road. Far across the way between the trees he could see a light. Disoriented, he stepped toward it. His perception grew more skewed as he went, time running wild in his mind. The light grew brighter, and he felt a comfort from it.

And then he saw her. The elven child.

Ellias…?he mouthed.



* * *​



Aidathin’s eyes lifted from the fire for what seemed like hours. It was nearly time for the mid-watch. He decided he’d move to rouse Rekh, who had volunteered for the task. As he rose, he looked to the opening.

Erën was gone.

Concerned, he hurriedly made his way over and looked out into the night. He could not find him. He rushed back inside and took up his lance, then moved to wake Rekh with a gentle shake.

“My friend, it is time. There is also trouble, and I must investigate.”

After waking him, without further explanation he bolted out of the cave. It was unheard of for Erën to have abandoned his post. There was something terribly wrong.

Perhaps this Zeng was not their only worry. Or perhaps he was worse than they could have imagined.
 
...Whispers against her ear, soft and inviting, the faint caress of dark magic that clung to every syllable, “Are you sleeping, sweet thing?”

Aless shifted slightly in bed, turning her head towards those striking emerald eyes. She ran her fingertips along a pointed ear. “I was trying to,” she murmured. “We have a battle tomorrow, remember?”

“You’re not worried?” her lover teased, settling in at her side. One hand slipped under Aless’s shirt, just seeking the contact of bare skin and coming to rest just over her solar plexus.

“How could I be?” Aless said. “I have you.”

It earned her a gentle laugh. “Sometimes I almost think you love me, Frostborn.”

She looked more seriously at those eyes. Declarations of passion were almost nonexistent from her, but that didn’t mean her heart as as frozen as it seemed. Even midwinter could thaw. “I would do anything for you.”

The green eyes changed, cold and narrow. “Then let us embrace.” A sharp, burning wave of necrotic energy hit her as her lover wound arms around her, enough to paralyze for a moment, to siphon her life away to fuel more necromancy. They were not in bed anymore, but on a battlefield, surrounded by her soldiers fighting their own who had been transformed. Then the rage hit, beyond anything she had ever known. Woe was already in her hands, and she brought the blade to bear with a snarl...

Araxa’s soft nuzzle at her shoulder and the soft sound of camp activity woke her. She frowned, turning her head to gaze at where Erën had been. Gone, which was not a good sign. She looked up at Rekh and Aidathin’s brief conversation. “I will keep watch,” she told them quietly as they passed. It was entirely possible that this was a ploy to allow access to their still-sleeping members. This time, she shifted Woe to be even more readily at hand.

It wasn’t as though she would be sleeping anyway, not with the agony in her chest and the bitter taste in her mouth.
 
Rekh awoke suddenly to his being shaken, talon swift to Aidathin. He withdrew the hand as the Elf explained the situation. Rekh quickly rose to his feet and gathered his sword from the small shrine, then Aless spoke. Rekh hadn't noticed her waking, but the noise of his waking no doubt stirred her.

"If you would keep watch, Aless, then I shall join you, Aidathin. If something has happened to Erën, then we should know. It is far too dangerous this close to the Necromancer for one of us to be alone." Rekh turned to Aless and observed how quickly and quietly she rolled into an observant position. "You will keep the others safe? This cave should be safe, but it is by no means guaranteed. Should anything happen, don't hesitate to call out. Without my armor, I can be here in minutes at most. Stay safe."

With that, the Strigi left and caught up with Aidathin, who had started the trek below, searching for signs of the other Elf. Rekh took stock of their surroundings, his Strigi sight penetrating deep into the night. He was not the best of trackers, aand left that to his companion, but he could see quite well given the circumstances.

"Should you like me to, I will wait for the clouds to cover the moons, and then I will fly up and look for Erën from the sky."
 
She did not dream. She never had. The existence of such alien to her mind, and only the testimony of Father and others allowed her to even conceive of the notion.

There were no faded images, no guidance through her sleep by an experience so real at times as to be indistinguishable from reality itself. No. No such thing.

Instead. The formless black. The near complete ceasing of consciousness. There in that midnight merely a vague awareness. A lonely and neverending sea. A brief reprieve from Arethil by way of the cessation of all things save one, the said awareness, that simple being, wherein no thing was sensed and no thoughts were had and no emotions were held.

The absolute base level of existence.

I am. Expressed not in the words but in that thin awareness. And there was nothing more than that.

This she sank into with each night.

And Lazule lay still on her bedroll, the slight commotion of her fellows in cause failing to disturb her rest.

Her hands held on her chest.

The rising.

The falling.

With each gentle breath.
 
It was a hurried leave, but Te’leis felt Aidathin’s concern. Erën was gone without word. Though he was distant, she could still feel his presence, and if she could Aidathin certainly would. What troubled her was the darkness she felt wrapped around his mind. It pained her. She was too weak to act, but Rekh had gone in her stead. And Aless remained.

But she was thankful, if all three had left and they be discovered… Neither she nor Lazule it seemed would be able enough.

Then, she felt it. The spinning darkness which shrouded Erën’s mind grew wild, and erratic. A reaching out. A struggling. And then a horrid sorrow, vast and empty. She gasped, roused from her rest, and trembled.

Anger.

Hatred.



Aidathin moved with haste. He felt Erën close by, but something confounded his mind. He could not feel where he was. About them was a fog, wispy and light. The elf turned to Rekh, pleased that he had come.

“No… not yet…” his eyes darted about. He too could see well at night, but he found that the thin haze to be too obstructive, “I cannot see him, or hear him… but I feel him close by…follow me.”

Aidathin led Rekh farther north, but sometime along the way their course clearly changed. After that was not very long and some ways from their encampment they found him. Well off the road he’d been led, and there at the edge of a great meadow he was. He stood with each sword in hand, and in a heap near him were the remains of the young girl from Orenhaven. He looked through a sparse brush down into the meadow, where the fog was thickest and seemed even to come from.

Aidathin drew near, coming to a halt some meters away from him. He looked back to Rekh with a look of uncertainty, then looked back. He could feel Erën much more clearly now – the nearby carnage was fresh, the spell seemingly broken. Even still he held his lance at the ready.

He called out, “Erën?”

Erën did not say a word. The blood in his veins boiled. His jaw clenched shut. He lifted his right arm, pointing the sword into the misty clearing. The river was near and its roar was strong here, but over it Erën - who could not see as well as Aidathin or Rekh in the night – heard them.

Zeng’s minions had found them, but strangely even after striking down the girl they had not been alerted to his being there it seemed. They dragged themselves lazily and relatively quietly, but their approach was certain and deliberate. Erën was sure the other two would see them, at least more than he could. He could not tell their number, but it sounded quite large.

He had wished to strike out at them as soon as he had discovered them but knew it would be unwise to do so alone. And why he had been lured out now seemed difficult to understand, but if this was a trap then he had fallen right into it. Thankfully, timing had worked in his favor, and now he was not alone.

His grip tightened, and there he stood, almost as though he was waiting for them to give the word.

Aidathin could not see through the haze, so he turned to Rekh, “Perhaps now, my friend.”
 
Aless had changed position by the time Te’leis awoke. She knew she wouldn't be able to don her full armor quietly enough not to wake them, but she had put on her subarmalis. The layered silk protected from laceration, as did the segments of fine chain at her joints. She stood like a statue In the cave mouth, leaning against the stone and almost blending into it courtesy of the dark grey silk, her favored weapon against her shoulder.

Drawn, Woe had a character that few knights could boast. The blade did not shine in the moonlight except for the edges and a few places where the marks of battle were sufficient to damage the dull-colored surface. The blade was as scarred and used as the hilt, drawing its elegance not from sweeping design, but from simple, ruthless efficiency and legendary endurance. It was not a work of art stationary, but Aless could make it dance in her hands, punishing her enemies with wicked speed and more power than they ever expected from the half-elf. She had long ago learned to turn motion and flexibility into strength beyond what raw muscle could generate.

This blade had killed more than a thousand people over the course of her decades-long career. At least, that was Aless’s best guess. She’d stopped counting somewhere along the way.

The sound of a gasp behind her barely drew a reaction from Aless. Her eyes glanced over, catching the distraught elf out of her peripheral vision. She knew little of her mother’s people—of Lysaerys’s people, though she hated even thinking that name with how it hurt—but clearly there was some connection between these three. Magic, probably.

Aless was sensitive to it, but not a caster herself—just enough awareness to sense something coming. That sensitivity was the only reason she was still breathing, treachery caught at the last possible second.

She wasn’t worried about that with her current traveling companions. They could obviously still betray her to the necromancer they were hunting, but that betrayal wouldn’t even be a scratch on her heart.

After a moment, a sigh, Aless drew her eyes away from their intense vigil and her frostbitten, steel heart away from her past. “Are you alright?” she asked quietly, stepping out of the shadows. Araxa would alert if someone came up the approach, as attuned to Aless’s mood and positioning as one could expect from a trained beast of war. Te’leis looked trembling and haunted, a reaction to a dream she could empathize with.

“You are protected here,” Aless said, offering what paltry comfort she could. “The others will return soon with our missing lookout in tow.” Or they will be dead. The thought was more practical than cynical, when dealing a foe this powerful. Then again, perhaps there was no difference in such matters.

Whatever the case, she would focus on what she could control, what she could influence. Any fretting elsewhere was a waste of energy. She was here to protect Te’leis and Lazule—she had said that she would—and so that was what she would do.
 
Rekh did not hesitate and took to the air with a few powerful flaps of his wings. It had been some time since he last took to the skies without his armor, almost a month, and the feeling was a touch relieving. It would have been more so, but for the undead now moving across the river. Once he had made it into the air, he quickly surveyed the situation.

The mists were shrouding the river and surrounding terrain, but it was what lay beyond that was what Rekh was looking for. Many undead were moving beyond the mists, but here was movement within the mists as well. They would be upon Erën's position soon. The choice was upon them if they were to engage the enemy here, or to try to avoid them. Rekh flew down to Erën and Aidathin, landing softly on an outcropping beside them.

"Several dozen undead are moving across the river and through the mists. They will be here shortly. Do we engage, or do we fall back?"

Rekh drew his blade and invoked what remained of the past day's magic, fully prepared for whatever the Elves chose to do.
 
For a time, she was shaken. Te’leis had not expected to feel something so vibrantly. Though, it felt similar to an experience in her own walk and perhaps that is what reverberated so strong. But the feelings subsided, and soon she calmed. She felt a closeness between the others, Aidathin had found him.

She nodded to Aless, “Yes, I am alright, thank you.”

She still felt uneasy with what had been shared with her, and she assumed Aidathin was likely thrown off as well. But he was wise, he would know what to do.

“Yes, I believe you are right. But still, it does seem strange…” she rubbed her eyes a bit, still bothered with exhaustion, “…it is not his way.”

Looking at Woe, she began to understand a few things, many of the questions she had not yet voiced now silently answered. Her eyes looked down, feeling a certain shame for a crime that she herself was hardly to blame for, yet still could not help but feel a party to.

“Thank you, your protection is most comforting.”



Erën’s snarl deepened. Though one of them had the ability to fly they were still all bound to fighting at close range, and who knew what lie within the dead’s ranks - thoughts of the prior sorcery still agitating him greatly and causing him pause. Someone with knowledge of his past, or an ability to read his mind. He doubted now it was Zeng, thinking instead he likely had others.

As they stood their, he began to place pieces where he had not yet thought to. Zeng was not alone. Indeed, it was he who led this crusade of wickedness through the Spine, but there was another – perhaps several. There had to be, for him to continue forward with such speed and still leave minions behind to slow his pursuers.

But who?

What?

He turned his head to see the others, “Aidathin?”

With the comfort of their arrival Erën’s mood had quickly changed and he regained his composure somewhat and proved wise enough to acknowledge the possible plight on his mind. Aidathin was relieved that he had leaned to his decision.

“Not here. There is much that is uncertain…and we are vastly outnumbered, however powerful we may be. We could be surrounded quickly. But the path to the cave is narrow. We can secure it. With ease.”

Erën agreed, begrudgingly. But yes, he was right. It was not worth it to engage them here. He backed away from the remains near to him and then he turned, ready to return to the camp.
 
Aless shrugged. She was slowly becoming accustomed to being a protector, something that had not been in her nature before. She’d seldom cared for anything besides victory and people only in terms of necessity for that end. She could not say if the elf would do the same for her—she doubted it intensely, given her past interactions. Erën was far from the first to object to her.

Still, it was better than what she’d grown with: threats of clipping her ears, gouging out elven eyes, or the unhealthy and forceful interest in whatever elven beauty she’d inherited from her mother. She remembered vividly being beaten by bigger children until blood dripped from her nose or lip onto the cobblestones. There’s your two drops of human, half breed. Now you’re all elf. The insinuation was always that being more elf made her even more unwelcome.

It hadn’t taken her long to fight back, to be even more vicious and cruel than her assailants. It was the beginning of the hatred and sadism that fueled her life for decades and decades. It was such a stain on her soul that even her mother’s people did not want her around. Another world she couldn’t fit into.

That was why she’d made her own.

“I will be here,” she said simply. “You should try to get some more rest. We won’t have the luxury of it often, not if our quarry is anything like the necromancer I once knew.”

She’d admired Lysaerys for her cunning. It had contributed to victory many times. Still, Aless had trouble separating that admiration from the pain of treachery. She had every expectation that this wielder of dark magic would be just as dangerous.
 
Tathra agreed with Aidathin’s assessment of the situation. There were far too many enemies to engage in the open here. Even with the rough terrain and the river crossing, the path to the cave would be far easier to defend. It would, however abandon their secrecy. That would not do entirely.

“Aidathin, Erën, we should fall back to the base of the hill. We should not show them the path should they be able to report to their master. Instead, we shall wait for them where the crags will narrow beside the road. They will come to us. Hold them as you can, I will fly to warm the others.”

And with that, the Raaka hit the skies.
___________________________________​

Rekh arrived within minutes at the entrance of the cave, Araxa’s huff being the first sign of his arrival.

“Hold, Aless! It is I, The undead have crossed the river and are looking for our position.” He grabbed his cuirass and started to don it. Then noting Te’leis’ waking state he added, “We will be holding them at the base of the hill, hopefully keeping them from finding the cave; but you ought be prepared to fight or flee should the situation warrant. Aless, I trust your judgement for the situation. We will not be far.”