They had journeyed towards a forested area northwest of the city. Skirting around the edge of the plains, they kept to higher ground and avoided seeing the ruins of Sparrow Haven. They stayed off of main trails, but since the great beasts in the area had been hunted down long ago, the worst they had to deal with were the peculiar black squirrels that chattered noisily in the trees.
The forest was set between the plains and the mountains, making it a peculiar mix of land moving from the golds and browns of the plains, to the lush green of the forest, to the sparkling white peaks of the snowcapped mountains. The air was fresh and cool, but gradually warming as spring bloomed into summer. The trees were mainly pine and cedar, which allowed them to see a long way ahead, and pick their way easily since the tall trees had prevented much undergrowth. In the midst of the warm day, the whole area held the sweet scent of warm pine needles. Small mushrooms popped out of the ground at the roots of the trees here and there, and curious black squirrels scurried about gathering pine cones and who knows what else to stock away for the winter.
Grenwyn seemed cheerier than usual, and his eyes sparkled and held a zest for life that seemed to grow with each day out of the city. He was heading closer to his homeland, and although he held much love for the forest and sky, being so close to the mountains brought him a sense of nostalgia that he hadn’t felt in many years. Mynix on the other hand, did not appear to feel the same.
Although she had awoken a few hours after the attack, Mynix kept a haunted look in her eyes. Laith had told her that perhaps speaking of what she had seen with her friends would help her, but she refused to speak of it. She kept to herself most of the time, staring off into the trees. She often wandered slightly away from the group, where she would sit in concentration and whisper quietly to herself.
Feryl used her time the same way she had since awakening at Grenwyn’s a little over a year ago. Every day she worked honing herself into a perfect and deadly weapon, although she did not know what she was preparing for. She only knew that it kept her mind in the present, and she worked until her body could give no more, then collapsed into sleep, only to wake up and do it again.
Laith left with them, and stayed with them. While none of them had known him before the night of the attack, he had asked to join them in their journey stating that he had reasons of his own to learn more about the black robed villains, and seeing as a good blade and a sharp bow could always come in handy, the rest of the group had readily agreed. Laith did a bit of everything, he often wandered off on his own, only to come back with wild game, or mushrooms, or fruits and berries to supplement the meager rations they were able to obtain before their flight from town. He would often talk with Grenwyn about the faraway lands they had seen, and the monsters they had fought. He seemed to have a special bond with Mynix as well, and would often sit with her in silence while she stared into the distance, and his presence seemed to comfort her.
Feryl did her best to keep a distance from Laith. Although she liked him, and enjoyed his company, that feeling frightened her. For reasons she did not understand, the thought of accepting a lover terrified her. She still had not remembered any details of her former life and could not have known that her current circumstances, and the sense of dread that accompanied the stirrings she felt for Laith were the result of the betrayal of her lover Dastrius. She often watched Laith longingly across the fire at night, and while he pretended that he didn’t notice, the faint flush that came to the tips of his ears would have exposed his feint to any who were very familiar with elves in general. Feryl was not among those, but Grenwyn was and he watched closely the interactions between the two.
Laith had a lot he had not told them, and it weighed heavily upon his shoulders. His past was a source of great shame to him, and he had shared it with no one in many years. As he walked through the forests nearer to his homeland than he had been in years, a sense of nostalgia and foreboding grew in him. He carried dark secrets and deep sorrows, and thoughts of them grew in his mind as the forest deepened around them. His thoughts carried him back to his childhood home, and the events that had caused him to leave it forever.
When Laith was a child, he had often strayed far from his home. The elders had warned him that trouble would follow his restless soul, but he did not believe them. As he grew older, he grew more and more curious. When he saw humans in the woods, he would follow them, watching them, wishing to learn more. He taught himself common from the few books his tribe had, and eventually desired to visit the human cities. He spoke with his Father of this desire, and was forbidden to ever speak of it again. Yet, even this could not stop his wandering.
One day, while out in the forest, he had come across a group of huntsmen, and decided to engage them in conversation. They were friendly to him, and he ate with them, and as the sun began to sink, he took his leave and bade them farewell. He walked slowly back to his village, not bothering to cover his trail, confident that humans could not follow an elf’s trail in his native land. As the sun sank lower and the full moon began to rise, Laith felt a uneasiness began to grow. He watched the shadows, and listened intently, and though he could find no signs to prove it, he felt as if he were being followed. He reached the edge of the village to find his Father glaring at him. “Have you spoken to anyone tonight?” he asked. Laith could not answer, the words stuck in his throat, but the flush at the tips of his ears told his Father all he needed to know. “Go in the house.” His Father said in a manner that left no room for argument. As Laith lay in bed, trying to figure out how to run away, he heard a snarling and scurrying about outside. He rushed to his window and saw the warriors of the tribe lined up as if for battle, and had just enough time to wonder why before the first wolf pounced.
Laith watched in horror as his sister's mate, Tirnaur engaged the first wolf. It was unlike any wolf he had ever seen, pure black, and larger than normal as well. It fought with ferocity and intelligence. It lunged at Tirnaur, and he batted it aside as if it were a fly, Laith was enthralled with his battle prowess. It lunged again, trying for his leg, but he slashed downward with his sword, while jumping back, and got a clean slash across its shoulder, but it too reacted before serious damage could be done. It looked up at Tirnaur, and Laith could have sworn it smiled. It threw itself at him, all in one motion, but Tirnaur was faster and struck the monster aside, opening the creature from throat to stomach.
The creature fell to the ground, and Tirnaur looked up at Laith, smiling, but Laith’s gaze of pride grew into one of horrow, as the wolf began to melt back into the form of a human, a very familiar looking human, and Laith knew it was he who had led their enemies to the village. Tirnaur had barely registered the look when a great white beast, this one in a form halfway between human and wolf, leaped on him from behind and threw him to the ground. Laith watched in horror as the beast tore out Tirnaur’s throat. Tirnaur’s eyes met Laith’s as his lifeblood soaked the ground, “Tell Elanor farwell,” he mouthed. The light left his eyes, yet Laith could not tear his vision away from the man he had idolized, the hero he thought would never fall, and knew it was as much his fault as if he had set a blade to the mans throat. .
The elders had known some evil was about, and scouts had spotted the pack. The elves were therefore prepared when the werewolves attacked the village, and there were very few casualties, but in creatures who are so long lived, each loss is a great tragedy, and cause for much mourning. His sister Elanor had bonded with Tirnaur only 3 years ago, and she was expecting their first child. Tirnaur had fast grown in reputation and prowess and was expected to lead the village one day. Laith's mistake had brought a lasting pain to his village, and his Father was responsible for reporting his sons transgression.
Laith’s father reluctantly, but stoically went to the elders and confessed his sons betrayal. Laith knew his Father loved him, but with wood elves, the whole village is a family, and knew his Father must do his duty. Yet, he hated him for it. Laith was told that were he to ever leave the bounds of the village again, he was never to return. Laith became an outcast, and he felt more restless than he ever had. He did not wish to speak to his father, and his sister would not speak to him. In the spring she bore a child, Nienun, in common, Sorrow Born. Laith crept into his sisters home, and looked in at the face of his beautiful niece, and resolved to leave the village forever. Near her crib, he left his only treasure, a purple gem fashioned into a flower that he had given his mother before her passing. He left a piece of parchment, stating simply, “I follow my heart to where I cannot harm you. –Egren Laith” Then he left his only home with a heavy heart and a new name.
(Note: This story and all characters within are the sole property of the author, and is under the protection of United States copyright law)
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