The Death of The Old Ways (Frelance and Retro)

[RetroWitchcraft]

Ithilwen was awakened by the sound of a blood curdling scream. It had shaken her and she sat strait up; head and eyes darting around every which way. What had happened? The room around her was the way it had always been; plain with no personal effects and quite small. At first everything sounded normal as well and she assumed that the shrill cry had come from a nightmare that she did not remember. Then, as her body further wakened, sounds filtered their way in. There was the crackling of burning wood, shouts, shuffling feet, and all around discord.

Fear grappled her insides. What was going on? The Sanctuary that she was confined to, while a prison to her, was peaceful and secluded; she pulled herself from her bed. In the dim and orange light that radiated into her window, she saw the outline of herself in the mirror. Pale as the moonlight, her skin and hair both radiated a nearly white golden color. Her dressing gown was white as well with silver embroidery. The only parts of her that had any distinct color were here eyes, which were a pale indigo and her lips, which were peachy in hue. Her body was slight and willowy.

She only took a moment to look at herself before heading outside of the room that had been carved into the side of a tree. The whole sanctuary was carved into the sides of three large and ancient trees. Instead of seeing the normal calm of dawn that greeted her, the sight that welcomed her was hellish.

“By the gods!” she exclaimed. Fire had engulfed the main part of the sanctuary. The stench of burning flesh had accosted her nose. Circling around were men with wooden wings. On their backs were strapped arrows and their bows fired at the same time, creating the sound she had heard back in her room. Another chorus of screams erupted from the places that the arrows had hit, setting whatever they touched ablaze.

Before she could stop herself, Ithilwen was running as fast as she could. There had to be something that she could do! There had to be something to stop the Alchemist! In her mind there was not another group who could do such a thing. While she had been blissfully unaware of the turmoil between magicians and science only a short bit ago, travelers had informed her of what had started to unfurl in the world.

The power of her magic was beating through her wildly and her aura shone about her. Her magic was pulsing and rushing through her veins. Flight feet carried her to the platform that was controlled by the magic of the Head Priestess. It was perfectly still, attached to the base across the vast expanse of the two trees. A cry tore from her lips.

“No! She can’t be dead!”

With the sudden flare of her emotions, the light that was encasing her burst brightly forth. The platform of wood lurched forward off of its podium and came towards her quickly.

 

[Evo Var]

Cursen ran into one of the three trees that made up the complex with a short sword in one hand and clay jug in the other. He felt the now family crawling of his skin and slid to a stop as half the others in his group ran into the next room only to be torn apart as the vines that clung to the walls sprang out to wrapped around them. The studded leather armor tore like paper. The breast plates that some of the more experienced soldiers had on held but the veins just wormed there way under the metal. He spotted the slightly built man off in the far corner to late to save the other soldiers but he had enough time to light the fuse on the pot and roll it into the room. Just as the man noticed it get within a foot of him it exploded throwing a burning black tar all over him and about half the room.

Blinking away the spots from his eyes he glanced around the rest of the room as the vines went slack then walked into the room. He knelt down and pulled the duel barreled pistol from the belt of what used to be his superior officer and now was just a few chunks of meat. He also grabbed the Alchemy kit and put it over his shoulder so that he had one resting over each hip. "Come on search the rest of the rooms." He heard a few others repeat his words most of them being men who were much older than he was.

As he stood up the light from the burning corpse caught his eyes and they glinted that vibrant green that was not a natural human color. He saw someone look away quickly but he saw the look of miss trust all the same. He spat on the floor then left the room and started to make his way higher up the inside of the tree. He passed more than a few floors without entering them. He would just look in then when no one was insight before he slipped past the doorway. When he came to the end of the staircase he checked the gun adding a bit more gunpowder since most of it had fallen out.

When he was ready he ran out and onto the walkway that went to the edge of the tree. He spotted her right away. She was almost his complete opposite with her light gold to his well tanned hue although he could tell from where he stood that if he was not used to the hard work he grew up with his body would be as thin and slight as hers. "Stop or I will make you stop!" He shouted so he would be heard above the roaring of the fires below. He raised the pistol and pulled back both hammers while he approached her slowly.

He could tell something was different about her. His skin still felt like it was trying to crawl off his arms but where all the others magic had just pushed at his body hers seemed to be leaking inside and filling up spaces that he had not known where there but it did not feel wrong like so many accounts from other soldiers hat suggested. Even still his arm was held out steady and leveled at her chest while he used his other hand to pulled a small sealed pot form one of the alchemy bags.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

The pale and radiant creature only paused for a moment, her long ears twitching in aggravation. Her beautiful face twisted into something horrible. “You will kill me anyway!” The stench of the gunpowder made her features deepen more.

Which, with the sight that greeted her, was not a hastily made assumption. Death littered every inch of the once sacred place. Another scream ripped her attention away from the young man. One of the older acolytes had been pushed off of the edge of a platform and had fallen to his demise. Her stomach lurched forward and she shook her head.

“All you alchemist want is to destroy every last magical being. I know. I’ve been told!” As if to prove her point, the tiny moon elf motioned to the space where she had watched the male fae being tossed from. The air around her crackled dangerously and her fingers began to shimmer blue. This was known as a ‘magefire’ and was considered to be quite rare.

At this Ithilwen felt a moment of panic. She was letting her power run away with her again! Yet at this point she could not stop it. Her emotions were racing terribly and made her unstable. The platform she intended to use crashed into her podium, knocking her off kilter a moment as the tree shook from the force of it.

“So, are you going to pull the trigger on your fire stick or will you let me pass so another soldier can strike me down?”

 

[Evo Var]

His grip tightened on the pistol but he was careful not to tighten the trigger not know how sensitive it was yet. He kept his face blank as her face twisted into a horrible mask. "Surrender and I will not kill you." He raised his voice so that she could hear him clearly and to hide his nervousness. He could feel her magic worming its way deeper inside him and he resisted the urge to look down at his arms to see if his skin was actually splitting and letting the magic slow inside his veins.

He was snapped back to reality when he heard a scream from just behind him. He looked over just in time to see the acolytes fall out of view and a soldier that he did not recognize but could not have been out of his teens standing there with his sword shining wet with fresh blood as it hung limply at his side.

Cursen tore his gaze away and looked back at the women as she started to scream at him again. Gritting his teeth he took a few more steps closer to her. "Your kind is not any better. You kill as many of our people as we kill of yours!" His hand shook a bit as he watched the magic fire started to spread over her fingers and crack the air around her. He knew if he wanted to save himself he would have to move fast. His finger tightened on the trigger but the words from the generals announcement that anyone who brought in someone who had Magic fire they could get out of their conscription. He lowered the gun and put the hammers back into their relaxed position and as he put the pot back into the bag he spoke to her. "I am not going to kill you."

He used the moment of confusion when the tree shook to pull out a dagger and lung for the women. He steeled himself for the burning pain of the magic fire but all he felt was a warm glow. Right when his skin touched hers and even before he was able to put the blade to her neck he felt a shock of searing heat coursed through him. His body stiffened then collapsed to the wood of the platform as his mind over loaded and shut down.

He woke a few hours later laying on a cot in one of the medical tents. As he tried to sit up he registered the burning heat that covered most of his arms, neck and chest. He collapsed back onto the cot as the doctor came over and started to explain that the fire had laced over his upper body leaving burns over most of the area it touched and would leave at least a lace work of thin scars when they were healed. The good news he was told was that he would be up and moving in a few days. When the doctor left him Cursen thought over what had happened then tried to fall back asleep and sleep off the rest of the few days.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

As he collapsed against the moving platform, she winced and threw her hands to her mouth. That was not something she had intended to do. Guilt racked her for a moment, eyes lingering on his bubbling skin. With great difficulty she shook that feeling from her system. There was no time to waste on a solider that had likely killed many of her friends. Not when the battle was still waging all around her.

“I am truly sorry I have to leave you.” She told his assumed corpse. And, strangely enough, the delicate creature meant it.

The platform reached the other side and rocked against the tree. With one look back towards the body, she darted off again. Making her way through the tree was nearly impossible. Alchemist spotted her almost instantly by her magefire. Ithilwen burned through most of them. That bluish aura took down her human advisories quickly and effectively.

She never made it to the High Priestess’ chambers, however. The use of such powerful magic had begun to wear on her fragile body. The magefire around her body flickered and faded, and she collapsed against a tree that managed to stay intact.

When she awakened the scent of death, decay, lime, and bile was around her. Sobs from the survivors invaded her ears as the vile smells accosted her nostrils. The world around her slid in and out of focus and she pulled herself up slowly; a pale and delicate hand resting on her forehead. There was a cry of shock and before her eyes could fully sharpen on her area, two slender and willowy figures had run over to her.

“You’re alive!” one chirped loudly. She clapped her hands together and her coppery curls flopped about. With her tanned skin and golden, glinting eyes Ithilwen was able to pin her as a Sun Elf. Normally they were arrogant and believed themselves better than other fae but trauma had caused at least that one to act uncharacteristically. “We thought you were dead, moon elf.”

“You certainly did not breathe much,” the other chimed in. She was a Sun Elf, too. Her skin was the same bronze and her eyes the same yellowish hue but her hair shimmered like spun gold. The Sanctuary, of course, was overrun by them. Their species always had valued magic about all things, so it was no wonder that they had built this place. “Do you think it was your magic that saved you?”

Ithilwen shook her head. She was not so sure what had made her enemies and allies both assume that she had expired and she was not going to question it. She was just grateful that the lime hadn’t been dusted on her or that she hadn’t been thrown into a death pit that had been dug around the parameter of the once great place.

A delicate shoulder lifted. “I do not know… how many days have passed? I feel as if I have been hit across the head with a heavy object.”

“Since the attack? Perhaps three or four… it is hard to say. There aren’t many of us so work is slow.”

She grimaced and nodded her head before forcing herself up. After a few days of helping out with the site and making sure the dead were properly disposed of, Ithilwen set out away from the Sanctuary. It was no longer a safe place and, really, she found it pointless that the handful that were left were going to try and rebuild it. Alchemist would, no doubt, see it in ruin again.

Instead she headed out in attire she managed to ransack from the rooms that still were partially intact. A brightly colored blue tunic was cinched in place by a length of pinkish cloth. Trousers that were too big for her fell with almost every step and she had shoved a feathered cap on her head to keep the brightness out of her sensitive eyes. Some may have called it desecration to steal from the dead… she figured that they had no use for it anymore.

 

[Evo Var]

Cursen slept and he heard the elf’s words in his mind. When he woke again he felt his nerves tingling and as he blinked and his vision cleared he found that even though the sun had gone down his eyes adjusted much better to then it had ever been. He could see the face of the man three beds over even though the closets fire was a few feet away from the medical tent. He did not know what was happening and after a few minutes he had fallen asleep again. He woke a few more times during the night and each time he felt that his nerves were growing more and more sensitive each time he woke up.

He spent the next day laying in bed as the few people that were left from his attachment came to see him. Over the length of the day he learned that the moon elf had killed anyone who tried to stop her. Most of the men she had killed were form his group since they had been charged with clearing out that tree but he was told that after she had let the tree she had killed many others. Even as he took in the information he had been told he knew that if he had been the odd one out before now he was an outcast and out of the loop now.

That night as he fell asleep again he knew that he had to find her and find out what was happening to him. He had spoken to a few of the others who had survived and knew that whatever was happening to him was not what had happened to them.

He woke again just after dawn and was surprised to find that he felt better than he had in a long time. He could still feel the burns but he was able to push them out of his mind for the most part. He sat up slowly and within seconds the doctor came over and tried to get Cursen to lie back down. “You need to rest, your body needs time to heal.“ He pulled back a bit as Cursen glared at him and the non human green had almost eclipsed the human color of his eyes. “I feel fine and I will not spend the rest of my day lying here when I have work to do.” He stood up slowly and could hear his joints popping. When he was standing he stood there but he had to fight of a wave of protest from his limbs but as it passed he flexed his fingers and walked out of the medical tent.

It was only a few hours later that he walked out of the camp dressed in a plain cotton shirt and a pair of hide pants. The raw hide draw string of his shirt was loose leaving the deep V cut open and flowing in the breeze. He knew that no one believed that he was just taking a walk since when he had gone to his tent to gather his things he had found a full field kit sitting in the corner of his tent. He had inspected it and found that there was more supplies than most soldiers would be issued in two months.

He had not even thought about if he should take it or not. He had just slung the pack over his shoulder and left the camp. He knew he would not be put back into action and he was glad of it this had never been his war. The Alchemists had stopped the land he had grown up in from ripping itself apart and saved the lives of hundreds of me who would have died in the war they had prevented but the price was higher than anyone had thought.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he crouched just inside the line of trees that opened up on the clearing that surrounded the Sanctuary. He knelt there and watched the elves as they worked on rebuilding the Sanctuary. He sat there for a few minutes then walked around the edge of the clearing looking for signs of the moon elf. He had just knelt down under a tree where he could still see the discoloration on the ground where she had been laying. He did not know how he knew that she had been the one laying there but he somehow knew it.

When he heard someone walking towards him he quickly looked around then sprinted into the trees. He did not want to be caught right just as he got started. He spent the rest of the day watching the sanctuary for any sign of the moon elf. But an hour before sunset he stood and stretched. He had seen a few people leave the Sanctuary and since he had not seen any sign of the moon elf he decided to follow some of others. He was hoping that he could find out what happened to her. He would find her one way or another.

It was just after dark and he was on the trail of an elf when he felt his skin start to tingle more than usual as he crossed over a very faint path. He stopped and walked back to it as he weighed his option. But after a few seconds he started to follow the path. He had the same feeling that it was her even though he knew he could not know. Then again he should never have survived getting hit by the magic fire either.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

The night pressed on Ithilwen as she walked along the scarcely used path. Her foot fell silently on the soles of her shoes as she moved and she was happy for them. While the small, overgrown pathway was ideal for what she intended to use it for, it had gathered things like small twigs and stones that easily could get caught in feet. The Sanctuary had been her home (and prison) for almost her entire life. Not a bare foot was ever put on even a blade of grass and the skin there had become extremely sensitive for it. The Head Priestess had made sure Ithilwen was highly sheltered.

Apparently it made her wild magic all that much easier to control.

The rays of the moon touched her cheeks and she sighed, taking a moment to wrap her arms around her slight body. Most of the time she was forced to retire with the setting sun, as the sun elves that ran the sanctuary normally slept around that time. Moon elves, however, were nocturnal beings (as their name would suggest). Out in the beauty of the night she was able to forget the fight that had so troubled her mind and forget about those she had lost.

The past, however, was still very fresh and guilt overthrew her. It was not fair that she was reveling in her own life before mourning those she had considered allies. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth and she pressed on until hunger made her stop in the wake of an apple tree, ripe with golden fruit.

Seeing no point in hiding her magic now, she reached out her hand to call an apple to her. Instantly one flew off of the branch it was sitting on and landed in her small boned hands. She breathed on it first and rubbed it against her shirt to make it shine beautifully before she took a bite into the tender flesh.

Ithilwen had no clue that anyone was following her or she wouldn’t have taken the time to lean against the tree as she ate.

 

[Evo Var]

Cursen had quickly went from walking to a light run. He would have been moving slower but his night vision had not reverted to what he was used to and he now found that he could see about twice as far now. As he ran his mind wandered back to his youth and the hunting trips he and his family had gone on.

His family had held onto the skills and traditions that they had learned and pasted down through the generations. Over the years he had been taught how to hunt and use everything on the animal. When he had killed he had learned to say a blessing but when he had asked about it he had never been given a straight answer.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he was pulled back from a shock as a increase of magic washed over him. After the initial shock he knew it had not been painful but only large shock to his system.

After a few moments he started running again. It did not take him long before he saw the clearing. He slowed to a walk and crouched down as he reached the edge of the clearing. When he looked around he saw one figure clearly but no one else. After he had made sure that they were the only two people there he turned his attention back to the women.

Withing a split second of studying her he knew without a doubt it was the moon elf that had almost killed him. He stood up slowly adjusting the sheath on his belt so that he could draw his sword if needed. He kept his pace even and his hand away from the hilt of his sword for the time being. As he walked out of the shadows that the trees cast and his eyes caught the moonlight they seemed to reflect it back. "Why did you not kill me?" He had not even thought about what he was going to say to her. He kept walking towards he with his hands at his sides. The light caught the fresh scars on the exposed flesh of his chest and arms. It reflected it for a second just like his eyes were.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

The apple was ripe and had a crispy hide; the crunching noise from it nullified the sound of the approaching footfall. Her mind wandered to where she could go from there. She had heard tales of other magical cities within the realm but she was concerned. If her Sanctuary, which was so far removed from most civilization, had fallen then had the other places fallen as well? Would she be heading into hostile territory no matter where she went? Doubt loomed over her heavily and made a strange sort of exhaustion press against her temples and eyelids. Perhaps she was feeling an emotional drain to her physical weakness.

The familiar voice jarred her from her thinking and she startled, dropping her half eaten apple to the ground as she jumped up. Breath caught in her slight chest and caused it to rise and fall rapidly. The look in her eyes was one of horror; the indigo orbs following the faint scars on his chest in a strange and intricate pattern. The first man she had run into had managed to survive. Relief swept over her features momentarily. It was never her intention to kill any of those men. For the most part she could not even control he magic that had bubbled up within her. Her mentor had always gone slowly with her, stating that elves had all of the time in the world to hone their craft.

“I didn’t even want to hurt you,” she replied. Her tones were soft and musical. Most moon elves had very lyrical voices and were, in fact, bards. That is what the Sun Elves had told her (with a bit of distain to their voices, of course). “I never wanted to hurt anyone, really, but it was survival and you were trying to kill or capture us.”

She noted the flash in his eyes as well but thought nothing of it. It was rare when a human visitor made their way to the Sanctuary; all she had been exposed to were those of her kind. That sheen was commonplace to her.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. What was she going to do? She felt her aura spark again but, this time, was able to force it down into a churning pile that rested in her stomach and made her feel queasy. Surely he would try to haul her off again. Ithilwen couldn’t have that. This brief taste of freedom was amazing and, even wracked with guilt and fear of the unknown as she was, she did not want to let it go. How would she fair in running? Her body was no doubt lighter than his and able to travel at a fast distance but his legs were far more powerful. Chasing her down would be simple.

“Just stay back. I don’t want to have to cause you injury again.”

 

[Evo Var]

Cursen’s eyes narrowed but he did not change his pace as he continued to slowly walk towards her. He was not sure what he would feel when he found her and now he realized he was not angry with her. He just wanted to know how he had survived if she had not wanted to hurt him. As he passed close by an apple tree he reached up and pulled off two of the delicious fruit. “How could you not want to hurt me? You almost killed me when I was trying to capture you alive.” His voice was still even. As he watched her he polished the apples with his shirt then stopped under a tree not far from Ithilwen and after looking at the apples he held one out to her but made no move to go any closer to her.

“I am not here to take you back. I am not with the army anymore.” Technically he was still part of it but he had deserted so he would be a wanted man if he was not already. “You did something to me and I think you’re the only person can tell me what happened that night.” He took a bite out of the apple and chewed as he studied her.

“Look I am not getting any closer to you for now but good luck killing me.” He took another bite as he leaned against the tree. “I mean everyone else who got a taste of your power that night didn’t survive not to mention I can see fare better than I should be able to right now so.” He shrugged and took another bite of the apple. He stayed silent as he ate the rest of the apple and gave Ithilwen time to think over what he had said. When he finished the apple he looked at the seeds in the core and memories from his child hood tried to surface but his mind pushed them back down into the depths of his memory. He still had to make sure he survived the night.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

Ithilwen considered the weight of his words. She knew very little about military affairs and even less about alchemist and humans, but simply walking out did not seem like a very safe or smart thing to do. Her eyes traveled the length of his body and to his face once more, sizing him up. What he was doing easily could have been a rouse. The moon elf chewed on the bottom of her lip and thought more on it.

In the end she had decided to trust him.

One of her delicate hands reached for the apple and she quickly snatched the apple out of his palm like a frighten horse. It was kind of him to offer the fruit and she did not want to seem rude by not accepting it. She listened to him and continued to mull over what he was saying. Ithilwen was not sure what she had done to save him. It pained her to know that no one else had survived her magefire. Yet she had no other choice during that battle. Kill or let herself be captured and then locked up for the rest of her life.

“I am not sure what I did to you, Alchemist,” she told him. “I barely have a grasp on my power and, more often than not, it controls me. Why else would I be in a Sanctuary full of Sun Elves?”

She took a bite of the fruit and sighed in contentment. Ithilwen knew the reason why she had been locked away in that place of magic. Her powers were too great for her to control as a child, every time she threw a temper tantrum, something would catch on fire or something would explode. What she had not realized that the Sun Elves, who coveted magic above all things, whisked her away and hid her away like some precious gem.

 

[Evo Var]

Cursen's eye narrowed as she called him Alchemist. He was not a true Alchemist and he had never wanted to be one. "Just because I fight for them does not mean I am an Alchemist." The way he spoke the name betrayed how much he hated the just that one word alone. "If you are going to call me something use Cursen. It is my name." He grabbed another apple and was about to take a bite out of it but stopped and took the time to carefully look her over for the first time.

He made no attempt to hide what he was doing but it was more because he had not really thought about it. His mind was more preoccupied as her mention of the sun elves. He had not gotten a good look at her or any of the other elves until today. When he realized he still had the apple half way to his mouth he lowered it and spun it in his hand for a few seconds. "Until just now I didn't even know there were different kinds of elves." He was slightly confused and it was showing through. "So you have been living with Sun elves to help you control it?" Something was bugging him about what she had said. "Why can't your own people help you?" He finally took a bite of the apple. He was hungry and had not noticed with everything that happened during the day.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

It was shameful how ignorant humans were of different cultures or races. Her face puckered and pinched for a moment. Although she had been sheltered for almost her entire life, she had been taught somewhat about different beings other than the elves. Her knowledge, however, came from the extremely biased teachings of those who had held her in captivity.

“Of course there are different sorts of elves.” She informed him in clipped, slightly annoyed tones. “There are different types of humans, aren’t there?”

With short huffs from her nose she hiked up her pants that had decided to fall downward again. She looked more like a child playing dress up than the powerful mage that she was and that annoyed her. Living with the Sun Elves had given her an exaggerated view on magic and its importance.

“The High Priestess told me it was because my parents were very typical of my race. They moved too much and much preferred their songs than raising a child with powerful abilities like mine. Apparently all Moon Elves are inheritably selfish in that way.”

A small sting to her heart accompanied her words. Had she been selfish as well? She was told that almost every week by someone of power at the Sanctuary. When she preferred to draw or write rather than study methods of controlling her power instead of learning how to control it, those words flew out of their mouths. It had always hurt; she did not want to be compared to those she had been told basically abandoned her.

“And what of you? It could not have been mere curiosity and the thirst to know how you survived that made you leave the military. I noticed the way you spat in regards to being called Alchemist, Cursen.”

 

[Evo Var]

He glared at her but held his tongue since she had a point. After a few seconds he just shook his head and started picking apples and putting them in his bag. "You are the first being that uses magic that I have had the chance to talk to so forgive me for not wanting to look for a difference between the people I have killed over the last few months."

He walked over to a new tree and started taking only the most mature apples. Now that he had brought them up he started seeing the bloody mess of bodies from all those other battles. He gritted his teeth and worked on pushing the memories down again.

He looked up at her as she asked why he had left. "I was on the fringe of the men before but now after surviving what you did I would be seen as not trust worth." He laughed darkly as he thought about everything. "I guess I have to thank you for that. I have been looking for a way out of there ever since I arrived." He took a few steps towards the edge of the clearing. "So now you have a choice to make. You can come with me and have some company for the night. Or on the other hand you can stay here and wait to see if anyone else with be tracking you."

He was not sure if he wanted to help her but he knew that he would end up running into her whether he wanted to or not. The words of one of the village elders came back to him but for the first time he did not understand the words. He held his face still so that she would not see the confusion that was just under the skin.

 

[RetroWitchcraft]

Ithilwen thought on this for a good deal of time or, rather, it felt like a good deal of time for the silence of the night. Every cricket chirping along and every rustle of the treetops with a particular sharp gust of wind seemed to pressure her. There was still doubt in her mind that this man deserved her trust. Despite the fact that she felt he was telling the truth a small part of her was wary. Delicate hands wrung together and her brow knit in worry. Yet what choice did she have? He was right; the Alchemist dogs were going to track her down and force her into captivity. The elf did not want any more blood on her conscious, even if she had no choice but to cut down those who saw her as an oddity. Her long ears twitched; the dilemma of their unhappy circumstance playing plainly across her face.

“I suppose I can accompany you this one night,” she relented. Her speech was slow and deliberate as if saying such words caused her discomfort. After all this man had just recently been her enemy. There was good reason to be cautious around him.

That and she was unfamiliar with the area but not a word on that matter crossed her lips. The Sun Elves had never taught her the surrounding area. Nor had they taught her how to read maps. Those who had kept her had kept her completely and utterly reliant on them for her survival. She did not want him to know how helpless she was and how much she needed the help.

She palmed her half eaten apple nervously, hoping that he would not catch on to that fact.