A civil war rages in Talestor. A boy from a forest chases after his friend, leaving the safety of the trees and thrusting himself into a world he can barely comprehend, happening upon a weary sword whose only wish is for peace. A group of slaves are...
Brith felt like he was about to fall down, but the dark muddy shapes of the trees ahead loomed ominously over him, and his body was rigid with fear.
Still, it was better than if he'd stayed in the farm. At least he wasn't parched or starving anymore, and his skin hummed with the warmth that came from their mad dash to freedom.
Their rescuer seemed completely at ease. Vraide rested in his arms, head lolling against his chest. The alf was saying something to Kaia, or so it seemed to Brith, because who else would he be talking to? She was the only one who stood beside him. But the words he said did not make any sense, spoken to her.
Their savior was a strange one. He was an alf, but he did not wear Insurgency colors, and he did not have the studs in his ears that would mark him as part of one of their settlements. Also, he did not seem to be quite fully grown. Either that or he was just really short (for an alf). His eyes glowed, in typical alf fashion, but they were green. Brith had never seen anyone with green eyes before, except for maybe Lore, whose eyes were soft hazel and had a bit of green in them.
Their rescuer seemed almost fey, like he wasn't fully in existence, like something hid a layer of him from view. Before, he had seemed awkward and clunky, like he didn't fit right with the world and it showed. Now, it was like he was a natural part of the forest, perfectly melded with the backdrop.
The forest was dark, and Brith couldn't see. He stared into its depths and tried to make his eyes adjust. Something draped itself over his shoulders, making him gasp and jump in fright. It was heavy, but it was warm and soft. Brith turned around and found himself face-to-face with their rescuer. Vraide was no longer being carried, but leaned against him with his feet on the ground.
He hadn't even seen the alf move.
"Thank you," he said, grateful for the warmth. Without a shirt to wear, Brith had been afraid he would freeze to death before anything could be done about it. A thought occurred to him. "But... Won't you be cold?"
The alf snorted. "Eh, a little, maybe, but you look like you're frozen stiff. Besides, I'm a Knight of the Order of the Walking Furnace. I doubt I could freeze if I tried."
"A Knight of the..." Oh. A joke. That was funny. Brith laughed.
Green-eyes smiled at him, then gathered Vraide back up into his arms and frowned.
"Fever," he whispered. "His eyes are glassy. We'd better get moving, and pray we get there fast."
"Where are we going?" Asked Brith.
"To the lake," said the alf.
And just like that, they were beside a lake, gentle waves languidly heaving themselves upon its shores.
"What-" What was going on? How... How did... What even just happened?
"Come on, everyone," cried the alf, and led them in brisk strides towards a small dark structure. Brith trotted after him as fast as he could, bunching the cloak up in his arms so it wouldn't drag across the ground, and opening it for Tenn when he pressed up against him in a silent plea for warmth. Kaia was up ahead with Vraide and their rescuer; Foss was beside her. Yute walked alone, as he was wont to do, though Brith could tell he was cold and lonely and wanted to walk beside somebody. Probably Foss.
They ducked underneath a flap and went into what was apparently a tent. The alf had got a fire going in the center. The heat from it was some sort of heaven, after the weeks and weeks of chill wind leeching the warmth from their life-blood. Vraide was lying down on a pile of furs close to the flames, a blanket wrapped around him. Brith sucked in a breath at the sight of him. An unnatural flush spread across his cheeks, and his eyes were glassed over just like the alf had said.
"Is he going to be okay?" Asked Tenn, snuggled close to him underneath the cloak.
"I don't know," whispered Brith, "I don't know."
The only time he'd felt more lost, more helpless, was when Lore was taken away. Yute knelt beside Vraide, holding his hand. Kaia was holding a large pot and listening to something the alf was saying. Brith and Tenn sank down on another pile of furs. They were all exhausted.
Wait... Where was Foss?
Brith called after him, but Yute was the one who answered. "Celestar sent him off to get some pine tree bark," said he said. His voice was so faint that Brith barely heard him.
Celestar must be the alf's name.
Kaia was leaving too, carrying the pot with her. "I'm to get some water," she said to Tenn's questioning look. The alf, Celestar, was searching a pile of satchels for something, holding each one up to his nose before discarding it. Finally he seemed to find what he was looking for, a pleased exclamation making its way up out of his throat. The shadows vibrated with the flickering flames, each tongue of fire lapping up at the tent roof like it were hungry. Vraide was making distressed noises beside it, face still flushed, eyes closed tightly, and yet no sweat shone off his brow. Yute was still gripping his hand, face full of worry.
Brith felt his heart clench in fear for his friend. Beside him, Tenn pressed closer, tossing an arm around his waist, offering comfort.
He prayed- They all prayed- that Vraide would make it through this night alive.
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Author's Note: Welcome back to Aer'denna, everybody! My name is Quincy Jones, and I am an EVIL, EVIL person. *sips delicately at the souls of my enemies* If you guys enjoyed this chapter, please, let me know! I live off of feedback.
