Private Tales The Prince and the Fugitive

[Kalavan]

Somewhere in the Falwood
Fraeya Elwing​

A creek split the vibrant undergrowth of the Falwood. Patches of sunlight created a living painting on the earth through constantly changing gaps in the swaying canopy above. Somewhere far, far down the current, a buck dipped its snout into the stream and refreshed itself. Trees stretched nigh endlessly. One could walk for what seemed an eternity and never see where the trees stopped growing. It created a home for many.

What insulted the natural, pure beauty of the Falwood was the bodies left in the wake of a single elf, clad neck-to-toes in black. Blood saturated the dirt and stained the greenery around the creek. The elf crouched by the stream; five bodies dressed in padded cloth and shirts of mail laid several paces behind him, never again to rise. Weapons were scattered about the horrific scene.

The crouching elf let his hands soak in the flowing water as a farmer would after a long day of toiling in the fields. The elf's bearing was the same as such a farmer- he had no qualms in wringing those lives from their respective vessels. In fact, he took pride in the act, possessing the same pride that a farmer may have as he looked upon row after row of his plowed field.

The elf thoroughly rubbed his hands together in the cold water, making sure to clean every wrinkle of his fair skin of human blood. Even in the canopy’s shade, the elf’s seemed to possess a glowing complexion. His long, golden hair was anything but lackluster. It appeared even more vibrant as it flowed down his shoulders and clashed against the black garbs. Breaking the silence was the elf's whistling. It was an old tune that he learned centuries ago.

 

[Fraeya]

Fraeya was...beyond exhausted. She’d been running non-stop for two days. Since the execution. She wasn’t sure why her path had taken her back to Falwood. She’d told herself she’d never return to a place that had abandoned her. Let her small village get slaughtered. A place she hadn’t been to for over five years. Since she was taken and since she escaped.

And then escaped death again.

A shiver ran down her spine, remembering the human man who’d frozen an elf right next to her. Hammered another. And Talus. The one she’d helped not long ago. Who’d ripped out a soul before her eyes.

The girl walked with waking nightmares. Her feet ached. She wobbled and moved sluggishly. Were the scouts still following her? That strange, dark beast? Did Talus really HELP her?

The verdants and golden light of the forest spun. Lavender eyes strained as she stumbled into a clearing. A whistle. Golden hair brighter than the sun set against a somber midnight.

Bodies and blood.

Head pounded and her vision began swimming. When had she last eaten? Drank? Legs trembled beneath her.

She made eye contact with the strange elf and was able to mutter one thing before her eyes lost focus and she collapsed to the ground. Wrists were still bound with the rope from earlier, though cut from the middle with frayed edges.

“They’re coming.”

 

[Kalavan]

Kalavan looked up from his broken reflection on the creek’s surface and turned his attention towards the sudden disturbance across the stream. Still crouching, he straightened his posture, his hands rising from the water. They were dripping wet, though the blood had been completely washed away.

The woman had hair that reminded the once-Prince of flowers that grew in the palace’s garden. Prior to the war that Vel Anir waged against his people, he would spend many days there with his beloved. His expression almost immediately soured from the bittersweet memory.

He watched on with wary curiosity as the elf stumbled forward. Even from where he was, he could spot the scales on the hairline above her right brow as if it were an accessory carefully picked by the woman. Those pointed ears. An elf. How long had it been since he laid eyes on one of his kin?

She was a mess- dingy, gaunt, panting hard. Fatigue clearly plagued her. Before she fell, he caught a glimpse of the rope around her wrists. A prisoner like him, perhaps? Kalavan wondered how long she’d traveled.

Without casting even a glance back at the corpses, the elf rose and tread through the creek. Cold water soaked his feet and ankles. He crossed from the shaded side of the creek into the sunlit clearing where the girl collapsed.

As he came upon the elf, he gave her lithe figure a once-over. She was, frankly, in a pitiful state.

Suddenly, as he looked upon the collapsed woman, Kalavan felt a sense of responsibility for her. She would need to be moved; hidden from her pursuers.

“What to do,” He spoke out under a sigh. Kalavan crouched next to her. His hands hovered over her body as he considered the best way to get her up.

Finally, after some struggling, he managed to get the girl on his back.

He walked down the creek, going nowhere in particular. The Falwood was their only ally. Their ancestral home would provide a sanctuary for them, so long as they searched for it.

 

[Fraeya]

Wake up.....

The voice whispered in the back of her mind but her body refused to obey. She’d reached the point beyond exhaustion. The girl hung limply against the man, swaying to the rhythm of his steps. Save for the occasional twitch of her fatigued muscles. Purple hair with highlights of pink and deeper indigo splayed below her, shielding her face.

She seemed to whisper one thing over and over again.

“Ember....Ember....Ember,” voice would trail off and she’d still along their ‘walk.’ Before she’d whisper it again. Then still. And so on and so forth.

And while Falwood was no longer a place she would call home and far from a place she’d ever count as safe again, the magic of the forest could feel another of its own. Faeya’s magic had always been tied to nature itself. The energy of freshly brewing storms. The spring awakening. The burning heat of a blazing summer sun. This place had natural magic to it. Ancient for those who’d been born to it. Even elves, like her, who were still quite young.

Without being in control or knowing what the magic of the woods were doing, its energy began to shift to Fraeya. A very slow rejuvenation.

 

[Kalavan]

The strength lost over his sentence in Blackgate Prison had yet to return. Of course, over two hundred years without adequate exercise would do that to an individual. However, under the sun, he would never be truly weak. Carrying the girl on his back for a considerable distance would be tedious, but he couldn’t leave one of his own behind.

He was unable to save his people. At least, perhaps, he could save this one pitiful girl. Even if it were for a single day longer.

Despite the hair that fell over his pointed ears, Kalavan’s race was quite obvious. Not many humans stood tall and elegantly like him, with a glowing complexion to the point that the man appeared almost ethereal. The girl, too, had similar qualities. A serene beauty. Those peculiar scales.

And Ember? Kalavan wondered what exactly the meaning behind that was. Perhaps she, too, longed for something. Or somebody. He opted to remain quiet and simply continued down the stream. When she woke, if she did, he would converse with her then.

After several minutes of walking, the Falwood finally presented a suitable spot to lay the girl down. The creek flowed into a clearing. In the middle, however, was a large tree, much larger than the rest that grew around the clearing. Even from a distance, Kalavan was aware of the strong connection to nature in that spot.

He walked to the tree and laid Fraeya down as gently as he could in the shade. After placing her with her back against the tree, he sat at the edge of the shade, leaning back on his hands and looking out towards where they came.

 

[Fraeya]

It took her a good hour or so before she finally stirred. The cool shade had taken away the edge of heat from her exhaustion. She was hungry and thirsty. And for a moment, she wondered if she’d dreamed the other elf. Palms pushed against the moss covered bark of the tree as she sat up. Lavender eyes took in the new surroundings.

No.

Not a dream.

Had he...carried her?

The girl took a steadying breath. Pointed ears twitched. “Who are you?” Eyes traveled the small clearing, looking for any signs of the Anirians.

 

[Kalavan]

The elf turned where he sat. Eyes of gold fell to the girl.

“I see that it was wise to stop here,” He remarked, seemingly ignoring her question. “The connection to the Falwood is strong here. Do you feel it? The power of something that is not your own?”

Kalavan now faced her completely. “I am Kalavan. A silly question, but one that must be asked: Are you feeling well?”

 

[Fraeya]

His questions bothered her. Mainly because it was about THIS place. And she COULD feel it. The dark circles under her eyes had lessened considerably. Her fevered exhaustion was curbed.

“The Falwood is a place for nativity and broken promises,” she stated flatly. His hair really did remind her of the sun’s beams.

Pushing off gingerly from the branch he’d laid her upon, she walked over to the edge of the stream and kneeled down, gathering water in cupped palms. Like most elves. She had a natural grace with her movements. Footsteps left nary a dent in the grass. Light steps and strides.

The girl drank thirstily, sparing a glance over her shoulder.

“I’m feeling good enough,” she finally managed. “I’m surprised you stopped to help me,” she added. It was clear she hadn’t interacted with her kind in a very long time. And certainly didn't trust them.

 

[Kalavan]

He remained silent and stoic towards her comments of the Falwood then watched as she moved to refresh herself. Already, her complexion seemed better. She needed food, still, but at least she didn’t look ready to die at any moment.

“The water. The sun. The grass which we tread upon. For us, and only us, does the Falwood give such boons that guide and heal us in times of need. It brought you to me. Me to this tree.”

“Your words shock me,” He said with a tilt of his head, as if he truly didn’t understand what she said. “Of course I would help one of my kind. Has so much changed over time that us elves act not as pillars of strength for our kinsmen in times of hardship?”

 

[Fraeya]

Raven brows shot upward. A derisive snort left the tip of her nose. Where did this guy come from? She took another sip of water and then turned to face him, sitting in a grassy area lit by a radius of sun. Her back was to the burbling stream behind. The sunlight felt warming and not too much.

This is why she stuck to the woods. On her own. Away from humans. Away from others.

"I grew up not far from here. My village was raided by humans looking for elves with a rare magic. I was taken before I was thirteen. Force to work under mage hunters in Elbion. Did any of my kind come for me? Did any of my kind come to save me?"

Eyes narrowed in his direction.

 

[Kalavan]

A child of the forest. The Falwood would always lend its natural strength to one such as her.

"I reckon not," He crossed his legs and leaned forward where he sat as if observing the girl, "Humans... Vile, hateful creatures, are they not? To take one so young from her family."

Looking upon her, he could not tell how many summers this elf had seen. She possessed the vigor of youth, yet held a mature expression. What kind of hardships had she experienced, the prince wondered.

"Your village- do you seek to return?"

 

[Fraeya]

The way he spoke. His language. He reminded her of what little she could remember of the elders that would visit their village every solstice. She had to wonder just how old he was.

"I'm not looking for pity," a small kindling of fire in her lavender eyes. "And humans are," she hesitated thinking of how she knew Talus when they'd survived together in the Myrkyr wood. Before she'd seen him so easily and callously execute another elf. But then...he'd help her escape.

"Not to be trusted," she finished firmly.

Lips pursed at his next question. Fingers spread along the grasses in front of her. "No. Maybe." She frowned. She'd been fleeing the Anirians. This had been the closest place to go. She hadn't really wanted to return - afraid of what she might find. Or afraid of what she wouldn't find.

"What's your story? What village are you from?"

 

[Kalavan]

"No pity, then." He offered an apologetic nod. He could sense more than feel the spark of life behind those eyes like a sunset, where night and day clashed to create a beautiful and vivid tapestry in the sky. His eyes, like glowing gold orbs set into a complexion like ivory, lacked the same spark. To speak with the young elf was an easy task as Kalavan had once loved conversing with others. He could talk on all manner of things.

However, there was detachment behind those eyes, as if nothing in the world mattered.

"Calimdar," He finally answered. Elves his age, or those older, would recognize the name. He wondered if the name of his kingdom had become lost to time. It fell centuries ago, only decades after his imprisonment. And the fate of his people? Either killed or scattered in the air like ashes from a flame.

And far was it from a mere village.

"I am but a mere vagabond without a meaningful or exciting story. I would bore you back into a state of unconsciousness." A pause, one the length of a breath. "You- taken from your family. Subjected by Man to carry out their ill will. Now, on the run. From whom, I wonder?"

 

[Fraeya]

It was clear she didn’t believe him. He certainly wasn’t just a vagabond. The way he held himself. Though. Perhaps most elves held themselves tall even in the face of adversity.

And Calimdar. There was a whisper of a memory. Something familiar about that name but she couldn’t say what.

“From multiple people, probably.” She knew Elbion had a bounty on her head. To be brought back alive. They still hoped they could indoctrinate her. Brainwash her to lead their dragon armies.

“But more recently. The Anirians.” She shrugged. “I was picked up on the road for the way I looked. No questions asked. No trial. Just execution.” She wondered if they’d found out about her magic, if they would’ve tried to do the same as those in Elbion.

”perhaps you’re better off traveling alone.”

 

[Kalavan]

“Anirians?”

There it was. His spark. Dying embers reignited. A wrathful blaze in previously empty eyes. Kalavan’s posture straightened; an attentive response.

“The lowest filth,” He spat. “Excellent. We shall travel together, then.”

He’d heard but ignored her last remark. The thought of spilling Anirian blood set his mind to traveling with the girl. Where she went, Anirians would follow.

 

[Fraeya]

Lavender eyes narrowed in the elder elf’s direction. A ripple of surprise reflected across her features. She hadn’t known many elves to be so violent proned. Well. She hadn’t known many elves at all. While she I hadn’t lived as long as most elves we’re known for, she’d certainly endured a lot in half her short lifetime.

“What did they do to you?”

and Frayea certainly hadn’t agreed to let him travel with her. She liked to travel alone.

 

[Kalavan]

It was Kalavan’s turn to narrow his eyes at the girl. In over two hundred years, not a day passed where the Prince didn’t suffer from the memories of his home. Memories of his beloved, her black hair that was dark like the night sky with eyes that once glistened like the stars. Memories of her standing by his side as they resisted Vel Anir’s conquest of his lands, and the memory of her falling into his arms and never rising again.

The imprisonment that he suffered in vain. The way they continue to desecrate his ancestral home. It was a most heinous crime where the only compensation would be blood.

He stared at the girl in silence for some time, never blinking or moving from where he sat.

“Vel Anir leaves only death and suffering in their wake. They continue to encroach on our ancestral home. Like bugs, no, like a volatile disease.”

 

[Fraeya]

She didn’t exactly disagree with him. But he was certainly more of a zealot than she was. And she DID disagree on one thing.

Palms pushed herself up from the grassy ground.

“Your home,” voice was firm as fingers rubbed against the rope burns still on her wrists. “This isn’t MY home.”Yes. There was a deeper magical connection here but Fraeya didn’t want to admit anything more. This place had failed to protect her long ago. And now she only had bad memories tied to the wood.

 

[Kalavan]

"I see," his tone was resigned, but if that was what she believed, then who was he to say otherwise? "Where do you call home? Or, if not a home, then what is it you have that you can live for?"

He'd been passive with her now, yet he was slyly aggressive with the way he asked such a personal question. There was little emotion in his voice, save for the confidence, or grace- or arrogance- hidden behind every word.

But, it made him think as well. He called the Falwood his ancestral home, which is true, but it's not as if it were the center of his world. In truth, his home has long since perished. It's unlikely that many humans would know of Calimdar, perhaps only the learned ones. Only matured elves would. Perhaps there were survivors all across Arethil that carried the memory of their homeland with them. Maybe they shared the stories of a once-great kingdom; stories of how it flourished and fell. If he were to make claims saying that he fought for the wellbeing of the Falwood, or even the wellbeing of the elves that resided there, it would be merely superficial.

He lived every day only to satisfy his own selfish grudge against Vel Anir. Although blinded by hate, Kalavan was aware that he alone could never crush the bastion of humanity. He had no kingdom. No beloved. No family or friends.

Only his own raw anger.

"And... Ember. What- or who- is that? Perhaps this Ember is your reason to suffer through life?"

 

[Fraeya]

Her fair skin colored up her high cheek bones. Surprise and fear flickered in her gaze as she froze in her pacing. Wide-eyes stared at the elf with the golden hair.

"How did you...what..," lips clamped closed.

Arms crossed defensively beneath her chest. The grass almost seemed to shimmer with her anger, trepidation. "Don't say that name. And you have no idea what you're talking about."

The only thing was? He was dead on. And it irked the elf with the hues of purple hair. Ember was certainly a reason of why she kept fighting to stay alive. To find him again. To live.

 

[Kalavan]

He’d struck a chord and it played a beautiful tune. Kalavan didn’t let his satisfaction show on his face. The elf was spot-on and he knew it.

“I know what it is like to live for another’s sake,” He dryly responded, “Your pain- that of which you feel from the separation of yourself and what you cherish- I know it far too well. Who is this Ember?”

 

[Fraeya]

Pointed ears twitched. Lips pressed thin. "I just met you. And even though you...what you did for me. I still don't know if I can trust you. Ember is..," eyes shifted to the woods from where they came.

Then back to Kalavan.

"To be protected." And that's all she would say, for now. Kneeling back by the stream, she drank some more water. "It sounds like you want to start an army. A war even. And I think you're looking for recruits in the wrong place."

 

[Kalavan]

“I see,” His attentive posture relaxed. He leaned back onto his hands again. “There is no army I could possibly muster that would be capable of toppling Vel Anir. And... I do not mean to offend, but you do not have the comportment of a soldier.”

Silence fell over him and he studied the elf again.

“I expect nothing in return. Your wariness of me is understandable, though if there is anything at all I could guarantee it is that I wouldn’t do harm to you.”

He stood and walked out from under the tree’s shade. As the sunlight hit him, Kalavan’s skin and hair appeared to glow. He closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath.

“I was never able to protect anything,” He admitted, “No matter how hard I tried. Let me help you find your Ember. After that, I will part ways with you if that is what you wish.”

 

[Fraeya]

She had to squint as he stepped into the circle of light. Fraeya stared at him silently for a very long moment. A breeze rippled through the small meadow, leaves whispering in its wake. Head tilted as if she could hear what the wind had to say.

Head straightened.

"If I find Ember then you must swear an oath not to say anything to anyone about what you've seen. Do you swear?" A human would easily lie. For elves it was different. Oaths actually meant something. It was almost like magic, binding.

 

[Kalavan]

"An oath," His voice trailed. He wore a stern expression, but a winsome smile quickly replaced it. How interesting.

He would be bound to her, sworn into secrecy, to never speak of what he may see. If he did, the consequences would be dire. Perhaps it was a test of sorts? She would not be bound at all. Oaths were not often invoked, even when Kalavan was a young elf. Seeing as an elf could only swear an oath to another elf, it was not often used. Elves seldom came into conflict with another elf.

"I," He began, "Kalavan Il'Drun, swear to you an Oath of Reticence."

Should she accept the oath, they would feel a weak connection. Not one that would let each other know where they were, or anything quite like that. But they would always feel the oath's presence until either Kalavan broke it, or Fraeya, the oath holder, dispelled it.