1092KY
My first memory, forever branding my soul, was shrouded in a crimson film. Feeling no fear, I gazed at the carnage before me, choking on smoke from the all-encompassing inferno blazing around, and drenched in blood-watched in fascination as blades wove their magic, their deadly dance mesmerizing. One by one the red-skinned devils fell, but they continued, ceaselessly, pouring out of the surrounding woods faster then they were killed, slowly driving the weavers of blades to their knees, the most painful humiliation of their last seconds of life.
Gentle, calloused hands deftly hefted me up into a pair of strong arms, trying to break my grip with a hand that I hadn't noticed I held. Tightening my grip, not wanting separation from my last ties to normalcy, my eyes traced a path from our entangled finger to the hand's owner to meet a pair of glowing eyes that still haunt my dreams. He, too, was being pulled away, much more brutally than I, with disregard for any pain that he might feel.
Coming out of the daze that I had been trapped in, I struggled wildly to free myself from the imprisoning hold. Though my efforts were for naught, for the arms around me only tightened minutely while I had completely worn myself out. Weakened, my hand, now slick with sweat, lost its grip on the boy's hand, as the female holding him gave a rough jerk, separating us.
"Chaeni!" mournfully rang for all to hear as I stared, uncomprehending, as he quickly disappeared, the last that I would see of him for many, many years. I believed him dead and forever lost to me as all those that had lain, eternally forgotten, around me.
I did not know it nor appreciate it at the time, but apparently my captor would be my savior, saving me from the same devious fate that had struck down my companions.
A small band of Huntresses, accompanied by a few Furies, patrolling their vast jungle edges, who's stumbled upon the slaughter of what must have been my family and friends, were intrigued by my lack of fear, for it was truly rare to stumble upon a girl-child, even one raised as Huntress or Fury, that held no fear of battle and blood at such a young age. Though having a predator spirit, the Huntresses and Furies, few in number, followed their instincts to not interfere in the battle, knowing their chances of winning over so many was nearly impossible without reinforcement. Instead, in true Amazon fashion, they'd stealthily made their way to me and my companion, whom I could only assume was my brother.
Expecting us to follow docilely, they were unprepared for the struggle that we put up and had more attention drawn to them than they wanted when my brother screamed my name. Drawing the attention of the devils to us, the Huntresses and Furies swiftly made an exit, breaking up for harder tracking.
Having fought so ferociously that I wore myself into a stupor, my memories of the next several days were hazy and full of hellish visions that I could not escape as I sought comfort in the soft furred bodies that constantly pressed in around me, trying to chase away the demons.
Waking days later, I lay still, awake and alert, my senses seemingly shaper than ever before. Cautiously sitting up, I curiously scanned my strange surroundings, finding myself in the center of a round wooden room in the middle of a pile of exotic, multicolored animal furs, unlike anything I had ever seen or felt before. The rest of the room was similarly adorned with furs and ropes of razor teeth and claws hung from the ceiling. Multiple weapons lined the walls, most being spears, axes, bows; huge piles of neatly stacked arrow rested on the floor.
A door that I hadn't noticed burst open, startling me so badly that I crouched in an instant, shocking myself with my own speed. A low chuckle drew my attention to the female figure framed by the doorframe. You should see your face, Ithil'Telella. Come now, you are young enough that the change can't be that shocking or damaging. Come, follow me, and let's see if we were right about you, for it is very rare that one of the Ithil'Quessir have enough wild spirit to join us."
Relaxing slightly as she turned and walked out the door, I found myself compelled to follow her and find out what she meant. Warily making my way to the door, I trailed behind her at a distance, the towering crowd of strangely dressed women quickly parting to let us through. It was then that I noticed what I wore: furs as colorful and rich as the one's I saw earlier except they were silkier, if possible, gauntlet-like rings formed sharp points, adding claws to my hands; and reaching up, found my hair done up in the most intricate tiny braids that formed a net over the rest of my silken whiteness, letting my pointed ears poke through.
Deep in thought, I almost ran into the woman I followed but caught myself a second before, causing amused smiles throughout the crowd. Glancing around, I noticed that the chatter died down and all looked with fascination towards someone on a platform in front of a larger circular building. Unable to see what was so enthralling, I walked around and stood in front of the woman who'd led me here to find myself staring into a beautiful pair of golden feline eyes. The eyes belong to a leviathan cat, the like I'd never seen before, her coat so pure that once in the jungle I'm sure she would completely disappear, able to camouflage herself that well.
Awed I walked up to her and gently scratched her ears, causing her to purr and push her head more firmly into my hand. She opened her mouth, showing rows of jagged teeth that could easily end my life if she so wanted it, leaving me feeling as though I fearlessly danced on a razor's edge. Her mouth carefully closed over my free hand, though I continued to pet, unfazed, with the other, somehow, instinctively knowing that fear could be dire.
Everyone watched me with pleased expressions, though pleased at what I did not know. The mouth on my hand lightly pulled me in the direction of the building's door, while I willingly, almost mindlessly followed; walking into the dark, I heard the doors slam shut behind me.
That encounter was the first of many tests that day and the only one that I had permission to disclose. All I can say is that, since I'm alive and writing this, I passed them all. The woman who took me from the hut was Earcalen, which fit perfectly because everything about her, from her skin to her eyes hair and clothes, were sea-green. She became a big sister to me, in the menagerie that made up our village. The cat, I soon found, out was actually the leader of our mixed group, a shape shifter, Cath Shee, who became a mother figure to me. The Furies, surprisingly by choice, decided to stay in the village, though they often were away for long periods of time and did not enjoy company, because of the encroachment of their lands due to the War of Tears.
1099KY
For the next few years, I lived wildly for the moment and the hunt, though haunted at night by a pair of piercing eyes, which I feared I would never see again. Battles were a common occurrence, and I was thrust into them quite often, even at such a young age, quickly building a sharp set of survival instincts that saved my life many times. The youngest to come to the village for many years, I had no one to steal attention away from me and received the most in-depth training available. I quickly gained the respect of my elders with my stubbornness, never giving up until I'd accomplished what I was taught perfectly, though many times I did get in trouble for it.
Unlike many in the village, who lived in an almost pack-like environment, I preferred being alone, and like the Furies took to disappearing for days on end, much to the dismay of my elders and to my amusement. On one such trip to get away from the confinements of the village, I was so focused on sneaking away that I didn't notice the perfume of blood in the air until I almost stumbled over its source, which lay on the ground in a quickly spreading pool of blood - an unconscious human male, obviously very near death, if not dead already.
Cautiously, I moved towards him, intrigued, never having encountered a male since coming to the village - unless he was meeting the end of spear - and warily turned him over, unexpectedly pleased that I could see he was still alive, though not for much longer if the shallow and unsteady rise and fall of his chest meant anything. Quickly taking action, knowing that I didn't have much time, I hauled him up, as careful of his wounds as I could be in such a rushed situation, jogged, somewhat burdened by his weight, to my sanctuary, a place that I had never taken anyone before. But now I had brought a complete stranger, a mortal man, here nonetheless. Carefully setting him down on the furs, uncaring of the blood soaking them, I deftly removed his armor, unconsciously blushing, while searching for his wound. Finding it, I gasped, for the wound went all the way through his body; and while it seemed to have not hit any organs, it must have hit an artery for the amount of blood that flowed.
Deftly gathering the supplies that I would need from around the cottage, I promptly worked on staunching the blood flow and closing the wound; it was no easy task, and I worked long into the night, first sealing the artery as best I could and then meticulously and painstakingly stitching the wound shut both front and back. Many times during the process, I feared that he would not make it, but he always seemed to pull through at the last instant, revealing his fighting spirit and will to live. When finished, I was worn out but knew that I could not sleep, for he had developed a raging fever that tried to consume him as an inferno devours wood. Lightly, I bathed his sweat-soaked flesh and held him down when he was trapped in the throes of a nightmare, battling demons only he could see, soothing him as best I could with nurturing instincts that I never knew I had.
I continued this through the second day, forcing liquids down him during his few coherent moments, fearing that he would get dehydrated and knowing that he needed liquid to help replenish all the blood he'd lost. During the second night, his fever finally broke, and exhausted, I could do nothing but pass out next to him. I awoke well past noon on the third day and stretched leisurely as the cat that I am so closely tied to, forcing my brain to function through the fog that shrouded it, and opened my eyes to find a pair of lucid, unnerving blue eyes staring unblinkingly at me.
For a moment I just lay there, staring back; my mind finally clearing a bit, I leapt up with a shriek and backed away, crouched and poised for attack. Seeing him not make a move I, slowly relaxed but didn't drop my guard completely. Thoughts rushed through my head, as I tried to process the situation when the events of the past days hit me with full force, leaving me slightly embarrassed at my actions. Making my way back over to the furs, I knelt down and checked his temperature, feeling his eyes burning into me the whole time and, seeing that he didn't, drew my hand back. He caught it in a steely grip, strong for someone who had just spent the last few days dancing with death.
I froze, mindful of the leashed killing power in the grip, waiting for his move before I made mine, startled when he drew my hand to his lips, kissed it, and closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the furs and peaceful slumber. Heat shot up my hand still loosely held by his and spread throughout my body. Deciding to ignore the strange, though not unpleasant feeling, I pulled away and began the tedious process of cleaning the mess left from days of neglect.
After spending the majority of the day cleaning the cottage and myself up a bit, I went out on the hunt because I was hungry and knew that he would be too when he awoke. I had to get rid of some of the restless energy that had built up after being so long inactive. Retuning a short time later with a couple of plump hares, I skinned and gutted them to preparing them for cooking, secured them to skewers over the fire and turned them every so often.
It wasn't until I heard the stranger, as I had started to refer to him in my thoughts, groan, that I realized that he was awake and trying to sit up. Rushing over, I pushed him back down, careful of his wounds, checking that he hadn't reopened then. "You need to stay still and lie down; you aren't healed yet, and I would hate to have to stitch you back up again after all the time I spent doing it the first time," I reprimanded, while walking back to the fire to check our dinner.
Somewhat stiffly, I sat back down by the fire, and like the last time he awoke his unsettling eyes followed my trail, searing right through me, reading me as easily as an open book. Finding the hares to be juicy and tender, I removed them from the fire and laid them down to the side to allow them to cool a little, startled when the silence was broken by a deep voice. "Where am I? Who are you? How did I get here? What happened?"
I took a moment to collect my thoughts before replying. "You're at my private retreat, I am Chaeni; I found you in the woods and brought you here. And I'm not sure about what happened. I was hoping that you could tell me," I said, careful to answer every question and not give away more information then I had to. An uncomfortable silence met my answers and to my utter humiliation I babbled, something that I almost never did, unless severely agitated or anxious. "Are you hungry? Well, of course, you must be. You haven't eaten anything in days, and who knows when you last ate before I found you? I just made hare, you ca-"
The stranger cleared his throat, abruptly ending to my rambling and almost causing me to cut myself with the knife I used to slice the hares, when I froze in mid-motion. Warily, I swiveled to find the stranger smirking at me as though he knew a secret that I desperately wanted to know and was going to enjoy taking his time baiting me; I was not about to fall into a trap, though.
Ignoring the grin, I grabbed the plate and a bottle of water and sat down next to him on the furs, offering it to him, while taking some for myself. He reached out a hand to get some, but let it fall mid-motion with a groan of pain. Realizing that he was in no condition to feed himself and that I would have to do it for him until he regained his strength, I offered him a piece, and though he didn't look happy about it, accepted it gratefully and without further complaint. We continued the rest of the meal in much the same matter, with me propping his head up so that he was able to drink and swallow with less risk of choking. Finishing dinner, I went about cleaning things up, taking much more time than necessary in my want for privacy and time to gather my thought. It was disconnecting though; the stranger's eyes followed my every move, but not once did he utter another sound or loose the amused glint in his eyes.
Done with everything, I lay down by the fire with my back to the stranger, hoping to get a good night's sleep but truly doubting that's I'd be able to. Much to my disbelief, I found myself getting drowsy the instant my head touched the floor; and just as I drifted into unconsciousness, the stranger whispered the answer to my unasked question, "My name is Val'arrna." The name echoed through my head, a silent mantra, as my last ties to consciousness severed for the night.
I awoke to find a massive shadow looming threateningly over me, and with a shriek I lashed out with my foot only to find myself sprawled out on the floor in an instant and pinned down by the stranger who let out a groan of pain with his quick movements. Shocked at how quickly I'd lost control of the situation, I struggled against his hold, but his weight and strength were too much for me. I couldn't budge him, and I just wasted precious energy. I cursed myself for my stupidity for allowing myself to trust a mortal, and a man at that, to let my guard down enough to believe that since he was injured that he was not a threat to me.
"Quiet! And stop struggling!" a stony voice growled into my ear, gripping me in fear. Shocked by the tone, I stopped moving and help perfectly still. Slowly *Val'arrna* loosened of his hold on me, backed away and offered me his hand when I made no move to get up. Warily taking it, he pulled me up, while holding his side and looking pale.
Glancing down, I noticed the blood trailing down his side and dragged him back to the furs. "Damn it, I told you not to move or that'd you'd tear your stitches, and what do you do? You have to be all stubborn and not listen to a word I say and rip them open again, didn't- "
"You're good but not good enough. You have no style and your moves are too predictable. In exchange for saving me, for I know that I would not be alive now if it weren't for you, I will teach you to fight and will forever owe you a blood debt until you release me or I save you. All knowledge that I have of war is yours for the taking. I do not make this offer lightly, and I will not make it again or repeat it. I am sorry for my actions a moment ago. I was merely acting on instinct which is something that I am sure that you can relate to." His words hinted at knowledge that he should not have known about me.
"Apology accepted, and I agree to your offer. You now owe me a blood debt, and you shall teach me as soon as you are fully healed," I grabbed his forearm as he grabbed mine, sealing the terms and again began the process of sewing his wounds closed.
"I will teach you but not after I heal; you're training shall begin right away. Though I may be unable to physically teach you at the moment, you can do things to help yourself get ready for the lessons that are to come; for if you don't, you will sorely regret it."
I didn't miss his pun and knew from the little encounter that I'd just had with him that if I didn't prepare for the rigors that were sure to come that I would be in a world of hurt when he was well again.
He quickly started me on an arduous schedule that never gave me a break and left me exhausted with barely enough energy to make dinner and clean up before I passed out before my head even hit the floor. I'd thought that nothing could be more demanding than what the villagers had put me through, but I was wrong, dead wrong, and rapidly learning it the hard way.
Surprisingly, I found myself enjoying Val'arrna's presence, even when he vigorously put me through drills. His injury, swiftly healing, allowed him to be up and about much more often, something that he was extremely grateful for, having expressed his dislike at being immobilized many times.
I had thought that was grueling, but it was nothing compared to what I went through when he started to train me at hand to hand. Never in my life had I had so many bruises or scrapes. I refused to give up or take a break. Whether it was from stubbornness or stupidity, I don't know, but I refused to fall for his taunts that I was just a weak female and would never equal him. Every time the ghost of an idea of quitting appeared in my head, he would have a witty or biting remark that rekindled my fighting spirit, refusing to let me be tamed or defeated, not letting me show any weakness.
I quickly lost track of time; the days, turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, blurring into a ceaseless cycle, trapped in this world by ourselves, not seeking a way out, forgetting or ignoring the outside world. That lasted until the fragile peace was broken, shattering my world evermore. It could never be put back again, never be rebuilt, never be the same.
The day started out as the previous ones had, and I had no reason to believe that there would be anything thing different about today; I couldn't have been more wrong.
From out of nowhere, screams filled the air; horrible shrieks and cries reeking of pain, sorrow and death, an unforgettable haunting melody echoing from all directions. The skies turned obsidian, starting at the sun as though there was an eclipse and quickly spreading to consume the sky, devouring all but the outer reaches of the horizon that seemed to offer refuge from the hellish void that seemed to be appear... if we could were lucky enough to reach it.
As though a dam had been opened, thoughts of my village crashed into me, and I dashed off, desperate to find them, to see them, not realizing how much I had missed them because I hadn't been able to think about much else but the fight if I wanted to stay alive while battling Val'arrna. Val'arrna reached out to grab me, but I darted past; though I would never have his strength, I far surpassed him in speed and maneuverability.
"Chaeni, wait!" he yelled to my retreating figure.
Quickly making my way back to the village, the image that met me was straight out of my memories: horribly disfigured bodies littered the ground. I was careful not to look too closely at the faces of those around, fearful of whom I would find lying among the dead.
I found only two survivors, Cath Shee and a Fury, Merka, both terribly wounded and unable to say what had destroyed the village because of scarring terror left behind. After dressing their wounds as best I could, I sprinted back to my hideaway, wanting to find Val'arrna so that he could help me out. When I got there, there was nothing but charred earth, no evidence that a building used to stand in the middle of the clearing where I had spent months building a friendship and life for myself. "Val'arrna!" I shouted into the nothingness.
Silence was my only reply.
57SY
For many years after the turning, I wandered, sometimes with Cath Shee and Merka, sometimes alone, though always lost, searching for things that had vanished from my life, maybe to never reappear. Time and time again, I witnessed death and bloodshed of unimaginable amounts, never ceasing wars and innocence and life shattered far too young. To get by I took many odd jobs, the most common, a mercenary, which paid well even if the profession was rather messy at times and disrespectable.
One day I was hired to "get rid of" a druid quickly growing in power, who went by Menelmacar, which sounded vaguely familiar, and who could do no bad. But in the eyes of the one who hired me, that was all he was doing. I watched him for many days, learning his habits, taking in bits of information from his actions, revealed without getting a clear look at his face, which was always hidden by a cloak that effectively obscured his features.
His schedule, though routine, was a hectic one, as he continuously moved, never staying at one place long. He was always alone, separated from the masses around him. Finding when he was most vulnerable was quite easy; daily he crossed through some of the worse parts of town, taking rarely used back-alleys as shortcuts from place to place. On the third day, warring with my conscience, for I could see no reason for him to die, a waste of a fine spirit, something that I had the utmost respect for, I decided it was time to get the job done, enough of letting the anticipation drag out. Stealthily following him, I was surprised when he turned into an alleyway that he had never used before, breaking what I thought was his clockwork cycle. Keeping to the shadows, I carefully rounded the corner prepared to attack but was shocked to find myself face to face with the stone wall of a dead end.
A voice came out of the shadows on the other side of the alleyway, quickly followed by its owner, causing me to start and spin around. "I knew we would meet again one day, Chaeni, but I never expected that it would be under these conditions. You always were the wild one, the free and untamable spirit, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprise."
My shock must have been written on my face because Menelmacar chuckled. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I have been watching you for years, waiting for you to find me. Don't tell me you don't recognize your own brother?" With that he drew her hood off, giving me a clear view of his features, and eyes that I had never thought I'd see again.
"How?" I whispered, frozen in shock at his revelation.
"That night, the Huntress who took me dumped me in a little village, though I believe she was ordered to kill me. She was above killing those who couldn't defend themselves. Since that day I have been trying to find a way to find you and the rest of our family and have looked for other survivors from the Irekei attack on our caravan. Though you may not remember it, we come from a very old elven family, one that can trace its linage to The Age Before, House Lok-ri. Now that I have found you, we can begin to search for them together."
It took me a moment to find my voice. "I'm sorry, but I can't yet. There is still something that I must do first before I look for a family that I never knew. Someday I will join you, but that may not be for many years still. I wish you luck on your search, though; but if you found me, then I'm sure that you won't have any trouble finding them."
We talked late into the night and met quite often after that, always keeping in touch, though my *ex*-employer, Ksh-Huan, was not happy with me, as I would quickly find out.
96SY
It took me many years to admit to myself that I searched for Val'arrna, that I missed his compantionship, and many more to acknowledge that because of his mortality he was long dead by now. I needed to move on and forget about him, not dwell in the past, for the past was dead and could not be revisited, no matter how much I wanted to. Throughout the years Ksh-Huan had made numerous attempts on my life, going mad like many Aelfborn do when they get older, desperate for revenge against me. All attempts were unsuccessful, though, and all ended the same way: with the assassin dead and never to be found, not even a challenge.
Disappointed with the lack of challenge, I still wandered, still in contact with Menelmacar, who believed that he had found some leads in his search for the lost House Lok-ri and taught me my linage - father, Amrod, son to Jyfarin and Elendiuria Lok-ri, and mother, Nessa - while I waited for the day that I would find my equal.
Unbeknownst Ksh-Huan finally had a bright idea and made a smart move; realizing that his methods were not working, he offered an outrageous amount of money to a splintered royal human family, the leader of the greatest army around, the Mori'Quessir Ohtarim, asking for the help of the Uial'vairar, literally the twilight weaver, the fiercest warrior they had, to terminate me once and for all.
While buying goods in a random market place, I was filled will unease, feeling eyes follow my every move but unable to pinpoint their source, trying to scan my surroundings without drawing any unwanted attention to myself if I didn't have to. Carefully picking my way through the crowd, I walked through a deserted part of town and turned into a partially hidden alcove. Not a minute later, a huge warrior walked by, confirming my suspicions that I was being followed.
Waiting until I was sure he'd passed, I made my way out of town, not wanting to have a confrontation in such a public place, knowing that if he was really after me that I would soon be meeting him face to face.
No sooner than I had exited the town did I notice the man again trailed me at some distance. Taking to the woods, I made my way to an out of the way clearing and waited impatiently for the next assassin to meet the end of my spear because he'd interrupted my schedule. Moments later he emerged from the trees, decked out in heavy armor with a huge jeweled broadsword at his side. Taking a good look at him, I realized that this could only be the Uial'vairar who had been talked about so much lately in this area and realized that I might actually have a good fight for once.
He wasted no time with pleasantries, and the instant he saw me he was on me, sword drawn, ready for the kill. Drawing my short spear and looking at his sword with distaste I met him midway, causing an explosion of sparks to spiral in all directs from the clash and grind of metal against metal. With a shove that would have sent many sprawling, I leapt back and lunged forward again to strike, only to find my attack parried. Again and again I attacked with the same results, feeling fear, an emotion I was unfamiliar with, pool in the pit of my stomach.
Switching to the defensive to conserve energy, I found myself able to easily block his attacks, anticipating them before he had them even though I was unable to read his next moves. With one more particularly nasty crash, the two weapons shattered, showering us in a quick fury of metal and wood bits.
We both paused for a moment, staring at each other under visage-hiding helmets before we lunged, each of us trying to strike, each blocking. A blizzard of blows rained onto both of us, neither ever landing a hit or kick, each of us moving in perfect synchronicity as though we had rehearsed this hundreds of times.
One particularly nasty blow I was unable to dodge snapped my head back with neck-breaking force, my helmet flying and white hair cascading down my back, and sent me sprawling. The Uial'vairar froze in mid-swing, a blow, that if it had connected would have sent me spiraling into the blackness of the abyss.
The Uial'vairar choked out a word that I was quite used to hearing, "Chaeni!" It left me shocked senseless, not by the word but by the voice itself, a voice that I had not heard in almost a century, which it could not have been. Val'arrna was mortal and would be long dead now, having retuned to the ashes and earth from which he came, so it couldn't possibly be him.
Sinking to his knees beside me, the Uial'vairar pulled his helmet off revealing a face that could not possibly be. Val'arrna, who should be dead, kneeling down next to me, looked not a day older than when I had last seen him, the day of the turning. My mind, in an uproar, was unable to process the information that my eyes were giving. I couldn't to accept the possibility that he, a mortal, had somehow survived all these years. "How?" I managed to croak past the lump forming in my throat.
He was silent a moment before replying. "How am I still alive, you mean? After you ran off to your village, I somehow found myself standing in the center of my city, rebuilt after the battle that had nearly killed me. With all the chaos that was going on all around Kaimelartal, it seemed untouched, allowing us to quickly grow in power with my resumption of place as the army's leader. Something that I neglected to mention to you years ago is that I am in fact an elf, and that I angered a powerful mage who cursed me to appear as a mortal human. The curse was lifted when I was rewarded from saving the life of an elven noble's daughter."
I could only stare at him in shock, never having heard of such a thing. Deja vu filled me as he stood up and offered me his hand, flashes of the past so like this moment replayed behind my eyes. Accepting it he pulled me up and steadied me when I swayed uneasily on my feet from the blow I'd received. The shock slowly faded, finally realizing that Val'arrna was not a figment of my imagination, and I embraced him, his arms encircling me, to prove without a doubt that he was flesh and blood, that he was standing here with me.
The dam that I had built up all these years couldn't take anymore, weakened, and burst, flooding me with emotions that I hadn't allowed myself to feel or dwell upon in decades. Painful, broken sobs poured out of my soul, while I clung to Val'arrna crying on his shoulder. Val'arrna for his part, just held me, letting me get it all out, soothingly rubbing my back. After awhile I quieted but didn't relax my hold on him. Now that I'd found him again, I was never going to let him go.
Feeling his eyes on me, I tilted my head back to look into his eyes.
"Come with me?" He asked, voice full of emotion.
Stunned speechless, I finally managed a nod, unable to form words or tear my eyes from him, fearing that it would break the spell that I had fallen into. Reluctant to leave the solitude of the clearing so much like the place where we had grown to know each other, we gathering our gear we walked back the same way we came, starting a new life.
Ksh-Huan never had a chance to let his insanity spread to other victims, because he didn't live past that day. Val'arrna and I soon made contact with Menelmacar, and I found out, much to my surprise, that Val'arrna had forgotten to inform me that he was, in fact, a prince, as well as the discovery of the location of the illusive Lok-ri.
Near present time
Val'arrna smiled reassuringly at me again, while giving my hand a light squeeze, when I looked in fear at the Lok-ri gate in front on me. Squaring my shoulder, I walked through the gates with Val'arrna and Menelmacar by my side, not knowing what hurdles the future might hold, and never once looking back.