Of The Line Of Estelondo: Percival's Tale.

Chapter 8: Where Time Stands Still

The pair ran through the woods, Metimafoa falling behind due to his short legs, despite the fact that the LeShay was slowed down by Orónëminya's damaged form. "The camp is not much further." The Fey would chant occasionally, but it sounded so desperate that Metimafoa was unsure whether The Fey was talking to him, or to himself.

Just as Metimafoa's hope drew to an end, they came around a wooded hill, and the LeShay encampment appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Mallori was instantly at work, placing Orónëminya's unconscious form on a table that had evidently been cleared off for medical purposes.

He called over his shoulder, to Metimafoa: "There should be a pot of boiling water hanging over the fire."

Metimafoa realised after a second, that he would say no more, and grabbed the pot, using leather gloves found nearby. He ran the water over to his sister, then faced the LeShay, awaiting more orders. The Elf-child watched in shock, as the LeShay poured some of the water onto his own hands, before tearing open Orónëminya's shirt, and bandages, to expose the wounds.

The mud had caked, and the rims of her dirt filled injuries were red with swelling and infection. Mallori began to dig the dirt out, but the mud had settled and was sticking to her flesh. Eyeing the pot of water, the LeShay gestured, and the young girl tapped on Metimafoa's shoulder.

Metimafoa turned to face her, at the same moment that Mallori took a cupful of the scalding hot water, and poured it into Orónëminya's wound. She immediately began to thrash about, still unconscious, her body reacting naturally to the stimulus.

Metimafoa tried to turn around, having heard the ruckus behind him, but the LeShay girl held him fast, her appearance of six, being much older, and stronger, than his appearance of four. Glancing at her in surprise and rage, he attempted to look over his shoulder at his sister, but the girl turned his face towards her and explained "He is only trying to help her, Metimafoa. Stay back, and let my father work."

Metimafoa tried to hold back his rage, but he could not keep it out of voice. "She is my sister," he hissed, his words, dripping with venom, "and I will do whatever it takes to save her, but can you truly expect me to trust two LeShay exiles, who I encountered in the woods less than three hours ago." She released him, hurt evident in her expression, and regret struck him. "I don't even know your name." He tried to offer as an explanation, but having minimal social skills, his apology had no effect.

She stalked off into the woods, climbed a tree, and was lost from sight.

Metimafoa was torn. He wanted to stay with his sister, but he felt compelled by his guilt to go make up for his harsh words to the girl.

Eventually, it was the words of the LeShay girl, telling him to stay back,  that made him go after her. He was of no use to his sister, but he could right his wrongs. 

Walking over to the tree, he couldn't see the Fey girl, so he began to climb, his weak arms barely able to pull himself up. He got about halfway up, when he saw movement in a nearby tree and knew it was her from the flash of pale white skin that he observed. Standing on a nearby thick branch, he gauged the gap between the two trees, and in a moment of absolute stupidity, decided to jump.

What Metimafoa failed to calculate in, was the fact that although he had the mental capacity of a young elf, he had the body of a four year old one. He barely pushed off at all, and went less than half the distance, before beginning to fall. He heard a rustling sound up above, him, and was jerked to a sudden, and painful stop by a pale-skinned hand, clutching his left arm.

The LeShay girl pulled him up onto the branch and stared at him with an obvious sense of curiosity. Sitting down next to him, she grabbed onto his arm, and in one quick motion, with no warning, yanked on it and relocated it. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, to prevent him from falling out of the tree, his scream stifled by her hand over his mouth. "Quiet now, Little one. Father would kill me if he knew you had been injured as well."