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 Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 5:44 pm
He looked down at the journal that he had been carrying with him. A part of him remembered who gave it to him, no matter how hard he had tried to forget. Just those thoughts brought up so much regret in him. Maybe he was more like his mother, Eirnae. He had never meant to put Rhi through what Mum Lenore had gone through. He'd done it quite by accident, but it was no excuse. Working, researching, getting caught up in his endless quest for knowledge. And then one morning he woke up and realized that all those months had passed, that there was no going back either.
He had a long talk with Lenore, told her that he needed to go, to learn what he really wanted out of life. He wanted to learn more about Eirnae's people, about her people, he wanted to see if that was where he really fit in. Mum Lenore had done her best, but she had not spent as much time with the elves as she would have liked, and Uncle Rinion was busy with Aunt Krista, what with her having been pregnant. Aunt Ximena was the first to admit that there wasn't much about her people that she knew, and she would be of absolutely no help to Damien. It seemed that the only person that would have been able to help him was his grandmother, Alasseo. Sadly, she had died before he could get to know her better.
So, with Lenore's skeptical blessing (he was much too young to be running off into the woods on his own!), he had packed a travel pack and was off in the direction in which Rinion had pointed him, with a caution from his uncle that the elves might not be there anymore. Teu'Tel'Quessir were known for not staying in one place for too long....
He pulled himself from his thoughts and ran the fingertips of his right hand over the metal leaf on the cover of the journal, watched as it caught the pale light of the moon and the warm light of the small fire he was sitting in front of. Well, it only seemed fitting that he would be using the first pages of the journal to try and start to at least chronicle his journey. It was a fresh start, was it not? Even if the very journal would cause that same sharp pain of regret, of guilt. He'd deal with it, had dealt with it, and he would be stronger for it.
Damien rolled his eyes as the twin long swords that Eirnae had given him all those years ago on Christmas decided to start chattering. He had known that it was too much to ask for them to be quiet. But, such was the path that he had started down the moment he touched those swords. They were bound to him, and he to them. It was only through his travels that he knew just why -
Again, he cut his thoughts short. He really should be writing all of this down, after all. Wasn't that the reason he had pulled the journal out? And, at the core, wasn't that the reason he had absentmindedly thrown the journal in his travel pack to begin with? So, without letting himself fall into the trap of his musings once more, he pulled out a quill that had seen better days, and dug out the ink well that he had very recently procured - seeing as how all his other ones had dried up by now. Taking a deep breath, his closed his sea green, serpentine eyes and opened the journal.Journal 7 September, 2009.
Looking at that date now, I can't believe it has been so long since I have left home. I don't even know where to begin with all of this. Perhaps the beginning would be a good idea.
I don't know when it happened, and I don't know how I could have let myself get caught up in so many things that I would ignore the woman that I had asked to spend the rest of her life with me, but when I did realize what I had done; well, I decided that I had to get myself together, to figure out just who I was, what I wanted, what path was I on. I am told that this is typical of people of a certain age. Unfortunately, I had never given a thought to this, not really, and it came as a crushing blow to me to realize that I was not even remotely close to the path that I was supposed to be on. I don't know what brought that to my attention, perhaps it was just one of those feelings you get in life, the ones that you know you're supposed to listen to.
This time, I decided that I had better listen. After all, who better to listen to than myself, at least where matters of importance are concerned? So, I had a long discussion with Mum Lenore. I think it helped that I was being rational about the whole thing, even if her first reaction was to tell me that I couldn't go. I explained my reasons to her, and it took over two hours for me to finally convince her that this was the right thing for me. All the while, I could feel my frustrations mounting. How was I any different than Nyoka, who had all the freedom in the world? Was it only because Mum Lenore had actually given birth to me? I tried my best not to let it bubble over, and I would like to think that I succeeded. But, part of me thinks that Mum Lenore had seen something of a hint in my eyes as to what I was feeling. Perhaps that was another reason she gave me her blessing?
My journey started the next morning, after I had spoken to Uncle Rinion. He warned me that the Teu'Tel'Quessir were a nomadic people, that they would very likely not be in the place where he had left them. And, I soon found out that he was correct. There was not even the remnants of their having been there, and I didn't know the first thing to do after that. By the time I had reached the location, the sun was rapidly setting; it was either camp there or hope to reach some sort of civilization before night fell. Unfortunately, the swords that Eirnae gave to me made up my mind for me. (As an aside, I have since named them: Naerdiel (nyre-dee-ell meaning 'lady of sorrows') is the decidedly more feminine of the pair, while Bregolien (brehg-ole-ee-ehn meaning 'fierce') is the male.) They promised that they would watch over me, that they would protect me. At the time, I did not know what they could have possibly meant by that. They weren't your average swords, obviously, but they were still only that.
Against my better judgment, I listened to them. I found a spot with relatively decent shelter and made a crude bed out of the blanket that I had remembered to bring. It wasn't long before I had passed out. In he morning, unaccustomed as I was to sleeping on the hard ground, I was sore - and, more importantly, unscathed. My first evening out in unfamiliar territory, alone, and I had managed to survive. Yet, I would not allow myself to get cocky, for I knew that I was still relatively close to Emerald Haven. The enchantments protecting the land would not help me the further away from it that I would get. There were dangers out there that I was sure I would not be prepared for. I only hoped that I would meet up with the Teu'Tel'Quessir before I happened upon those dangers.
Was I worried that they would not accept me? Perhaps there was a little worry there. But, my brethren were known as those that were more accepting of the outside races. Not to mention, if they were the same band that my uncle was traveling with, I was sure that they would at least extend me some courtesy. And, I had a leg up, my uncle was on friendly terms with the brother of the leader of this nomadic group. He had instructed me to look for the elf named Istuion. I had been schooled in the elven language my whole life, so I was sure that I could at least communicate with them, as well.
I had a breakfast that consisted of fresh water and a few nibbles off of the elven cakes which I had pilfered from the stash that Eirnae had put aside, and then I was on my way again. The next week went by with little to report. I made progress, camped at night, and had the same breakfast every morning.
However, during that time I realized just how little I had prepared my body for such a journey. My travel sack was small, enchanted to hold far more than it looked capable of and to still feel light. Honestly, I think that I could have carted around a whole pantry full of food, half of my closet (including my shoes), and all of my toiletries with little effort. So, it was not the weight that I was carrying around - even if Bregolien and Naerdiel are not the lightest things to have strapped to your hips. I had never walked for any considerable length of time, especially not in the manner that I was doing so now. And, the fact that my path seemed aimless wore on me, as well. It's hard to remain confident when you are not even sure you are going in the right direction. Bregolien was absolutely sure that I was going the right way. By the way, if anyone should happen to read this some day, do not think me mad for following the advice of a sword. Naerdiel and Bregolien are not your typical swords, and I assure you that the statement just made will be proven later on in my entries.
So, I followed his instructions, and kept going. Any time he told me to alter course, I did. For a week this went on, and by the end of it I was good and spent. Every muscle in my body was aching, I was dirty, my clothing was torn and my boots were not as shiny as I was used to them being. I would have been unrecognizable to any of the people who knew me if they were to have stumbled upon me. That night I did not even bother to make camp, I just fell onto a soft patch of clover and passed out.
And, then, it happened. I did not feel as if I had gotten any sleep when I was awoken by the sharp cries of my name. Looking back on this moment later, that was the first time that I was ever grateful that I was the only one that could hear Naer's and Gol's voices, for a dire boar was rooting around nearby. This thing had to be close to ten, eleven feet long, and I couldn't begin to tell you how much it weighed. It's arched back was taller than me, and I could see a strange armor on its head and its back. His tusks were huge and looked as though, if they were to pierce me, I would be cut in half. But, the eyes are what held me. They were beady little things, and all that could be discerned from their depths was sheer fury. Indeed, they were red and orange, ablaze with the emotion.
I was frozen in place, there was no way I could make myself move. I had light feet, yes, but I was sure the moment that I started to stand, the beast would know that it was not alone. All I could think was, 'If I just stay where I am, it won't notice me. It will move back into the trees and go on its way, seeing that there was nothing edible around.'
But, Naer was telling me that I had to move, that I had to get into the cover of the trees as quickly as possible. Now, at the time, my faith in her was not as great as my faith in Gol was. She'd thus far only proven to be sadder than a sword had any right to be. She hadn't spoken very much, at least not to me, and when she thought I was sleeping I would hear her sobbing softly. So, I hesitated, wondering if I should listen to her, or if I should keep with my plan - the one that seemed the safest. But, she was telling me to move again, this time not in that morose tone of hers, but in a more urgent one. 'Damien, move! It's going to see you, and it doesn't look like it's eaten in quite some time!'
And, I was just about to listen ... when the dire boar's head swung around and it looked straight at me. I could feel my eyes growing wider as all manner of thoughts went whirling through my mind; thoughts like, 'I never should have left home!' and, 'Nyoka and I never really did get all that far in our sword lessons,' and, 'How am I going to get out of this one?' Something in me must have been formulating a plan even as I heard the boar let out an angry huff of breath. For, while my eyes had grown to the size of saucers, and my mind decided that it was time to have my pitifully short and uneventful life flash before my eyes, my hand was slowly moving for my wand - the only weapon I really knew how to use. I only had enough time to pray that I could get my wand in my hand before the boar charged; and then it did.
'Move, Damien!' Naer cried again, a deeper sense of urgency in her voice now. She sounded as though her life depended on me not getting trampled. At the time, I figured that it could have, after all if I were to be crushed under the hooves of this animal, she and Gol most certainly would have been. 'Now!' and that was the thing to snap me out of my trance-like state. I rolled out of the way, grabbing my pack as I did so, just in time to feel the ground beneath me give a mighty shake, and I heard the thunderous crack of the boar splintering the trunk of the tree under which I had taken refuge. I sprang to my feet as it shook its armored head, and my wand was in my hand. 'Forget it, just take cover in the trees.' She was calmer now, and I knew I could trust her advice now. 'They're too close together, it might knock itself out if it tries to follow you.'
'Brilliant,' I thought, though in all honesty my tone was not so optimistic. My eyes darted to the ruined trunk of the tree, which was still standing - for now. But, I heeded her advice, and I darted into the forest. I heard the angry squeal that the boar gave off, and felt the ground beneath me shake once more, the approach of its hooves as I reached the cover of the trees. I heard some of the weaker, younger trees crack as the boar came roaring through them. I could only pray to whatever god was out there listening that I would soon be in the cover of stronger, sturdier trees before the beast reached me.
It seemed like hours I ran, listening to the thundering hoof-falls and the sound of splintering wood as the boar started gaining on me. And then, with a deafening crack, the wooded area around me fell silent. I heard the loud thump of something heavy hitting the ground, felt the vibrations under foot, but still I ran. I ran until I heard Gol's voice, 'Damien, you can rest now.' I started to slow my pace, to listen to my surroundings. I did not hear the approach of the beast, I did not hear its breath snorting angrily through its nostrils, nor did I feel its approach. I had made it, at least for another night. And, yet, I kept moving, moving until I could no longer hold myself up with my tired legs, moving until my mind was blank with weariness. I don't recall collapsing under the tree, I don't recall using my pack as a pillow, all I remembered next was waking up to morning birdsong.....
And, this is where I pause for the evening. I've still got a long journey ahead of me, home this time, and I am going to need my strength in the coming weeks.
- D
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 5:45 pm
Two days and he had not made much progress in his trek home. If he were to be honest with himself, he was dragging his feet. A great part of him did not want to go home, he wanted to stay in the place where he felt he belonged, with the elves he now - truly - thought of as his people. But, there was also a part of him, a part that was much smaller than the part that didn't want to return home, that knew it was time. He's been gone far too long. If he were to look deeper, he was sure that he would find that he missed his family. He missed Emerald Haven, even if the place seemed absurdly lavish to him now. He'd grown accustomed to a more modest way of life, now; smaller homes that had just enough room for what it needed to hold. Which was not a lot, since while living amongst the Teu'Tel'Quessir, anyway, they didn't stay in one place for very long. In fact, he hadn't accumulated much in the way of momentos, aside from a larger wardrobe. A few trinkets here and there to chronicle where he'd traveled, and small gifts for those whom he was no going to see again.
He nibbled on one of the wondrous elven cakes he had to stock up on for his return journey, and stared down at the blank page. Was he intent on continuing the documentation of his strange journey? Or would he much rather lie back on his makeshift bed - which was just as wondrous as the bread - and rest? Since his body had grown more accustomed to sleeping outdoors and to the life of a traveler, he did not need the rest. So, he settled on continuing his writing.Journal 9 September, 2009
In the days following my strange encounter with the dire boar, my traveling went far more quickly, if not more cautious. I began to take far greater care in studying my surroundings, for I was not keen on a repeat of my standoff.
Though I did learn something that would prove to be useful in making my travels seem to go much faster. Having Naer and Gol with me would prove useless unless I learned to use them. My wand could only do so much, learning how to use another weapon would be useful. Again, Nyoka was quite right.
Alas, I did not have a proper teacher. I was very much alone in my quest for knowledge, so all I had to go on were the beginnings of my training with my sister and the instructions from Naer and Gol. Again, it wasn't much to go on.
Of the two, Gol was far more helpful, though Naer was far more patient; and I found myself musing about their distinctly different personalities. Which made me wonder- again - at the origins of my swords. Whenever I would voice any of those musings as to their history in the form of a question, I would get the same answer from the both of them: All will be revealed once you know. The response was frustrating in its vagueness and lack of information.
So, I clumsily went on, training alone, learning techniques as they were dictated to me by my swords; and listening to them tell me how very I badly was bungling up the moves. The training, coupled with my equally solitary journey, brought a strange longing in me. I had never required the company of others, preferring to study in quiet and wander the grounds of the Haven in solitude. But, whether I liked it or not, there had always been someone around. I had never been truly alone. Now that I was alone, with only the company of Naer and Gol, I realized how much interaction with others was a vital part of everyday life. And, with this realization, I began to deviate from Gol's travel instructions whenever possible. I began to seek out the small towns and villages set close to the river or along the trade routes. I would stay a night or two, learning piece by piece about the land in my brief stays.
I also began to learn more of the Teu'Tel'Quessir. I began to learn that I favored them more than Eirnae's wood elven bloodline, save - I was informed repeatedly - for my hair. I learned that the elves I was looking for were the most well-known of the elven races, at least to the folk I came across (which were, as a whole, non-elves). I learned that, to most of those non-elves I was now coming across, the Teu'Tel'Quessir were an outgoing and a pleasant sort, even if they were very inquisitive (perhaps that very trait that I possess was inherited?). They were even willing, to an extent, to answer questions about themselves. One woman I spoke to quoted their usual answer, however, perfectly (or, so she claimed), "Those secrets are not ours to tell." She later went on to say that she thought they had left off the end of the sentence (which was, "At least not to those without elven blood running through their veins.").
My journey had a purpose again when I came across a small village deep within the forest. I was told that the elves that I was looking for had left not three weeks prior, and in which direction they had appeared to have gone. Recklessly (for I knew that it was hard to track an elf - especially one so used to traveling - even if you were just a few hours behind them), I decided that this news was too good not to act upon as soon as I could. I hurried out of the village too quickly to hear the warnings that were poised on the villagers lips.
Had I bothered to listen, I would have avoided my next brush of bad luck. I would have known that there was another danger that had recently took up residence in the forest around the village ... and that it was not any dire boar.
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 5:46 pm
Journal 11 September, 2009
This is where I thank the Lady that I was well versed in my magical knowledge - at least in the brand of magic that Mum Lenore used. For, if I had not been, I fear that I would not have been on my way home.
The danger that was awaiting me was of the human kind; petty bandits and flesh traders. Almost as soon as I was back out into the woods I heard their approach. Unfortunately for me, I had still not grown as alert as I could have been, and my reflexes were not what they should have been. At the first hint of trouble, I should have turned back and ran into the village. Of course, I did no such thing. Instead, I cloaked Naer, Gol, and my wand so that whoever was coming to greet me would not be able to find them. My quick thinking in that respect would be beneficial to me ... in time.
But, as it related to my present situation, it had me cornered. If I reached for any of my weapons, it would tip off that I had them. That was not a hand I wished to show at the moment. I realized that I did not have time to do that sensible thing that I mentioned earlier, so I stayed still, waiting. I could hear Bregolien and Naerdiel grumbling over my idiotic behaviour. I was inclined to agree that I was, indeed, being an idiot, but I really didn't see any other options.
Before I could think of a way out of my situation, they were on me. Hands were grabbing my arms, pinning them behind my back, and I was lifted off of my feet as my pack was being ripped from my back. I could hear the contents of the pack being rummaged through, while another pair of hands were checking my pockets and patting me down.
"Where's the money?" I was asked.
I was still managing to stay calm, even in my present predicament. So, slowly, I looked around for the source of the voice. My eyes fell on a man that seemed hardened by the life he lead. I suppose, if I had met him at an earlier part of his life, he might have been a handsome man; a strong jawline, deep set blue eyes that seemed more icy than warm now, a long, curved nose that somehow seemed to fit his square face. His mouth was set in a line of irritation and he was staring angrily at me.
"I'm just a lone traveler, friend," I replied.
"Bullshit," the man spat at me, and then pulled at the tunic that I was wearing. "This says otherwise. Now, I repeat, where's the money?"
And, that was when I decided that I really needed to get more modest clothes - at least for when I travel. But, up until then, I had no need. I hadn't thought that the way that I dressed would draw attention, it was just second nature, my 'style', if you will, an extension of myself. And, now, it seemed as though it would make more trouble than it was worth.
"You've checked my pockets, you've checked my pack. Obviously I don't have any money," I replied as diplomatically as possible. All that earned me was a burst of stars in my eyes as the man's fist connected with my jaw.
"We're taking him with us," the man said. "I'm sure some fancy lady would like to have a fancy houseboy." And, this was the beginning of my lessons in the so-called underworld....
- D
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 12:26 am
He had waited longer than he had last time to write in his journal. This was mostly because he was thinking about how much of this next part of his journey he wanted to document. He knew, for sure, that Tinania would be allowed to read this journal (as he was sure that his odyssey would take up the whole of it); it was easier than trying to tell it all to her, after all. Part of him wanted to gloss over the details to spare anyone that read it any amount of discomfort, but a larger part of him wanted to remain true to his journey, to tell every last detail no matter how uncomfortable it was.
He came to a compromise ... he would provide whatever details he thought necessary, and he would be vague in other areas. It was a very life-changing event, after all. It symbolized the death of his naivete and the beginnings of the man he was today. This was the catalyst for the change that he was going to undergo - and as such it deserved whatever respect he could manage to give it.
He sucked on the end of his quill, deep in thought as he tried to figure out where to begin.Journal 15 September, 2009
The initial days of travel with my captors went relatively smoothly, if you did not count the acts of cruelty that were inflicted upon me just for the sake of being cruel. I had developed a novel way of dealing with such treatment, and that was to think of home. I thought of the Haven, and how peaceful and happy I had been there. I thought about my family, Mum Lenore and Tinania and Nyoka (the latter of the three my dearest friends). I was oddly comforted by visions of my warrior sister coming in and saving the day, slaying those that dared to harm her Casnes and then admonishing me for allowing myself to get stuck in this mess to begin with. I was comforted by the thought of Nani chastising me in her quiet way, giving me a look that clearly said, 'You never should have left home, silly.'
Alas, I knew that Nyoka would not come for me, I knew that I would have to wait until I decided that it was time to come home to get such a look from Nani. But, those thoughts, those visions kept me sane during those dark moments. And, they must have saved me, for I think my captors began to think that there was something wrong with me. I couldn't begin to imagine what I looked like when I was off in my own little world, but I had to appear touched because all the fun of 'punishing' me seemed to have been sucked out of the activities.
They thought of other ways of being cruel, however. I was given very little to eat, and even less to drink. I could feel my strength draining from me even as the pounds began to melt away from my already slender frame. The raw ache in my belly became something that I grew familiar with. It was one of the only constants in the days, weeks ahead.
That was soon changed when we got closer to a settlement, however. I was given more food and drink than I knew what to do with. I was to be put up on the selling block, after all, I had to look my best. A darker part of my mind found this amusing, and at one point I was laughing hysterically over it. I remembered this because it was the first time in days that a hand had been raised to me. It had worked, and I was soon slapped into silence. It didn't help with my inner musings, though. I began to think of what fresh hell I would be sold into. Would my new masters be kind or would they be even crueller than my captors? Would I find a nice place to rest my head, or would I be forced to live outside amongst their animals?
Unfortunately, I soon found that I was not to be saved from this hell. It seemed that I was not wanted in the town that we had stopped in, and worse yet I had not found an opportunity to escape. My captors seemed to think that this was my fault, for no matter how touched they thought I was I was beaten severely for this. The blows rained down on me for near an hour before I sought refuge in the black of unconsciousness.
I was told that I slept for two days, but it felt like only a few hours. When I awoke, I immediately wanted nothing more than to sink into the black once more. I was sore in places that I had never been sore in before, and when we went to wash in the river I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflective, clear waters. My eyes were swollen shut, I was black and blue all over, with some of the bruises turning green and yellow as they healed. I was a mess.
This cycle continued for three more towns, and I began to grow ill. A fever took hold of me, and I could not stop coughing. It grew so bad that I had broken a rib, and bruised a few others, with the intensity of my coughing fits. As time wore on and as I showed no signs of getting better, it was decided that I was 'damaged goods' and that I was to be left at the next outpost. My heart soared with the realization that I would soon be free of my captors, while my mind was working in overtime - coming up with probable scenarios that I might be finding myself in.
I feigned unconsciousness when I was unceremoniously dropped outside of one of the homes in the outpost, and I waited until I was sure that the thieves had gone a good distance away before I pulled out my wand. They had taken my pack with them, and I had a mind to get it back. Everything that I needed was still in there, even if some of my possessions had been sold in the towns that we had stopped at. I still had some clothing, I knew, and most of the elven cakes (and I only had those because I had hidden them in a compartment that was very hard to find in the pack). With a flick of my wand, I called my pack back to me. It wasn't too long before it thudded next to me, and I was shakily pushing myself to my feet.
I hoped against hope that there was a healer in this town, but from the looks of it ... it wasn't that big of a place.
- D
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 8:17 pm
Journal 16 September, 2009
I've never been a part of acts of cruelty. Even when out hunting with Nyoka, she was humane to the fullest extent. Thus far in my short life I had only seen the good in people. As a result, I didn't fully believe that there was such violence in the world, that there was such darkness. Nyoka had told me stories, and I had seen a glimpse of it through some of my experiences with Nani, but I never really reconciled it with my experiences. Perhaps Mum Lenore had sheltered me too much, staying in the Haven most of my days had not been good preparation for what had happened to me, for what I had seen happen to my fellow captives.
I can write about it now with a detached eye, for I have found that is my coping mechanism. Some part of me wants to believe that I didn't go through it, even if most of me knows that I did. Not only do these entries serve as a reminder that everything that happened had come to pass, that they are further proof to that sceptical side of me, the one that refuses to deal with it.
I left some things out of my last entry, things that I need to address - things that served as yet another beacon of light during those times. It is often said that you never truly know yourself until you are faced with adversity. The same can be said of observing your fellow man. I am ashamed to admit that I don't handle it well - perhaps a trait inherited from my sister? When the darkness comes for me, I close off and refuse to deal with such emotions as pain and fear - and anger (something I did not inherit from Nyoka). There were times during my capture when great fury and hatred coursed through me, and such sadness that I could not bring myself to do anything. And rather than deal with it, I became a statue, shutting my mind down so that all thought process came to a grinding halt. I was a shell of the man I was.
But, my powers of observation were not hindered by this weakness of character. I was not blind to the predicament that my peers had found themselves in. There was one man in particular that made my months of captivity more bearable, and his name was Caleb.
Caleb was a human whose will refused to be broken. He was a strong man with a kind heart, and eyes that still managed to hold their humor and fiery spirit. I can't say whether this helped him or hurt him, for he had been held captive longer than I, and remained with the traders after I was cast out. Perhaps that same fiery spirit I saw was the reason he had not been sold yet? In any case as horrible as it sounds now, I was thankful that he was there. He managed to make me smile, bring me out of my shell when I had retreated, and even shared with me his scraps of food when I became particularly weak.
His kindness was the light in my situation, and reaffirmed my belief in the goodness in people. This belief held true as I found myself in the situation that I will continue to relay.
I stumbled through the tiny outpost; dirty, hungry, in pain, and tired. I was clutching my side, for my broken rib was making it increasingly difficult to breathe. My coughing fits caused immense pain in me, but by then I had grown used to it and even welcomed it - it told me that I was still alive. I don't remember making it to the middle of the town, I only remember waking up to the kindly face of an old man.
"What's your name, son?" he asked me as a fresh jolt of pain tore through my side.
I winced and noted the stab of pity in his eyes, and the slight motion of him pulling away from me. I could only guess that he had been checking me for injuries, for the moment he moved back, the pain returned to the dull throb that it had been before. "Casnes," I finally whispered. I do not know what possessed me to use my elven name, especially since I was so far from home and the man gave me no indication that he was a threat to me.
"It's nice to meet you, Casnes," he said softly. I'm Maynard," here, he paused, shrewd brown eyes assessing my state. "Can you walk at all?" he finally asked me.
I wasn't at all sure that I could, but Gol insisted that I try. Naer egged me on, the worry in her voice enough to force me to push myself up. It was a great effort to even sit up, one that left me shaking and sweaty. My shallow breathing heaved my whole body as I grit my teeth against this new and terrible pain. My renewed fit of coughing did not help matters, either, as I tried to speak. I finally managed a grunt, and Maynard put his arm around my back and under my arms.
His slight frame disguised the strength in his body. Despite his age, which I could only guess at, he still was able to help me to my feet and carry my weight as we started on our slow trek through town. As we approached the edge, another man came and helped. I did not have to hear the inquisitive title that he used for Maynard to know the relation between them.
"Dad?" the man asked as I looked up at him warily. He was a younger copy of Maynard, but stronger. He immediately came to his father's aid, taking all of my weight as he helped him. "What's all this about?"
"Casnes, that's the boy's name," Maynard said, exchanging a grateful look with his son. "He's injured, I thought Beth could help out."
"Mom's cleaning up the dishes, I'm sure she'll be happy for the distraction," the son said.
"Go easy with him, Trent," Maynard said as he hurried ahead, presumably to ready his wife for my arrival. "He's got some bruising and a busted rib."
"Will do," Trent said, instantly slowing his pace so that it would be easier for me.
Trent kept my mind occupied as we crawled toward their home. He fussed about the chores he was to do and gave a brief history of his family. Beth, as it turned out, was used to bandaging up broken bones, as their family were 'farm folk.' It seemed that my luck might be turning, and I welcomed this change of pace.
When we finally reached their modest home, Beth was waiting for us outside. Her kind blue eyes immediately became worried at the sight of me, and she hurried forward, fussing over me in a very maternal manner.
At this point, the pain was making it hard to focus. I don't have many memories of what transpired, only that I was soon without the comfort of my tunic and Beth's eyes seemed enraged by the sight that met them.
The comforting black took hold of me then.
- D Journal 16 September, 2009 (evening)
I woke three days later, I was told, feeling a great deal better than I had before I slipped into the black. My chest was tightly bound in bandages and my fever had lessened to a minor one. The coughing fits ... well, I wasn't too sure about them.
Beth asked me what had happened, but I was still closed off to everyone. I managed to thank her for her and her family's kindness, and offered payment for their troubles. She would have none of it, so we struck a compromise - I was to help her with chores around the house while I grew stronger.
Up until this point, I had never done what some call 'house work.' I'd always used magic to complete such mundane things. But, to do that now would cheapen my efforts to repay them for helping me back to health. However, I had no idea just how hard it was to complete such tasks manually. By dinner every night for the first week my muscles were sore - but I found that such things helped in my healing process. Not only did it make my body stronger, but the mindless labor helped in expressing my darker emotions in ways my body would not allow words to.
Beth later told me that during the first two weeks of my recovery, I was little more than a zombie. She confessed that she was growing suspicious that I was, indeed, turning into one of the undead before her eyes. Of course, that explained the extra wary eye she had kept on me.
She never asked me again what had happened to me, and neither did Maynard nor Trent. This small kindness was enough to have me holding them in higher esteem than I had before - if that was even possible.
I stayed with the family for two months, which was when it was determined that I could travel again. By the time I was able to leave, all of my 'fine' clothing had been bartered for traveling ones. Even my beloved cloak had been traded in for a worn wool jacket. I felt strange in the patched and dreary jeans and simple threadbare tunic, but I wasn't taking any chances. I looked the part of the pauper, much to my chagrin, but I knew that I would not stand out now.
When I left, Maynard gifted me with a skinning knife, Trent gifted me a sturdy canteen, and Beth gave me a small parcel of freshly baked bread and cheese. I insisted that such gestures were not necessary, that it was I who owed them gifts, but I was informed that to refuse them this would be offensive. So, I took the gifts, and silently vowed that I would repay them somehow.
I was on my journey once again, but my course was not set. I had no idea in which direction to go and the trail had gone cold. Not even Gol was of any help to me this time.
I feared that all the struggling of the last months had been for naught. That I would have to turn around and make my journey back home without having reached my goal. I was so disheartened by this fact that I did not make it very far from the outpost that had been my home for the last two months.
As I brooded over the sad truth of my failure, I ate some of the bread and cheese that Beth was kind enough to give me. That was when I heard a voice speak loudly in a language that I had not heard for near half a year.
"Such an odd mix," it said.
"Yes, I agree," another voice chimed in. "Unusual and intriguing."
"Indeed," the voice from earlier replied.
I looked around, trying to find the sources of the voices, the sources of the greatest music to my ears. But, I could not find them.
After more conversation (actually, more speculation as to my origins), they finally stepped into the flickering light of my small campfire. Two of the most beautiful beings I had ever laid my eyes upon ...
... And the goal that I had so desperately tried to reach. For I did not find the Teu'Tel'Quessir - they found me.
- D
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Posted: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:30 am
It was hard for him to figure out where he should go from where he left off. There was no much information to be written, as this part of his journey was the longest and the richest by far. Should he pick up exactly where he left off, or should he skip ahead a bit? In fact, Damien thought on this for a little longer than it took him to write out his next entry....Journal 26 September, 2009
"Greetings," the first elf said in his native tongue. "Can you understand me?"
It took me a moment, I am ashamed to say, to reply. All this time I had searched and the very people I had been searching for were standing before me. Well, two of them were, at least. The overwhelming joy that I felt was mixed with relief and rendered me speechless. I soon regained my composure, at least enough to reply with a, "Yes."
"Ah, good. You were taught," he said. "I am called Beriadan Thalion, and my traveling companion is Arandur Megildur."
Rinion had taught me the customary greeting and I groped through my memory to find it. All the while I was hoping that my sudden lapses in memory and inability to think properly would go away. It as getting annoying. Finally, "Elen sÃla lumenn' omentielvo," I said. "I'm Damien Casnes Silme-Natenhar."
"That's a mouthful," Arandur commented.
"Yes, I've been told," I replied, good-natured.
Beriadan took a few steps closer to me, his keen eyes taking studying me. Before he entered my 'personal space', however, he gestured toward me as though he was asking my permission. I nodded my consent, my own senses alert. While I had been told countless times that the moon elves that I had been searching for were a friendly sort, my experience with the traders was still fresh in my mind.
As Beriadan inspected me, I took a moment to study the elves. Silvery white hair, worn long and in intricate braids with colorful beading in Arandur's braids and equally colorful wires in Beriadan's braids, and pale skin with an icy blue hue - these were customary traits, I knew, from my observations of Rinion and Ximena. Beriadan had deep blue eyes while Arandur had a lighter blue - night and day were the thoughts that entered my mind. Their clothes were nicer than mine, but they were in subdued colors as well, though theirs seemed to be able to enable them to better blend into their surroundings.
"An odd mix," Beriadan repeated. "But, you are more out kin than anything else that I can sense in you." He smiled, almost welcoming, as I noted his eyes flick to the scales on my face. Thankfully, the did not linger there. "Dryad! Did you know that particular race was in your family tree?"
"Yes," I replied.
They nodded and exchanged a glance. In that look, they seemed to hold a conversation. Then, Arandur said, "We've heard of one who looks like you in our travels. It was said that he was looking for us."
"Aye. The only reason we sought you out was because those we trusted sensed no malice in you," Beriadan said. "Mere curiosity. Tell us, what brought you to your present course?"
I thought long about how to respond. Talking of two mothers might be a little more confusing and complicated that I wanted it to be, and there were other things that i didn't want to explain, either. Not at that moment, at least. "You've already concluded that my bloodline is a ... healthy mix of things. My mother was not raised by her elven kin and knows little of your customs and culture. My aunt and uncle were too busy to pass the information along, so I went out to inform myself."
They nodded, exchanging another look between them, another conversation. "You wouldn't be the first to seek us out," Beriadan said. "There are many that have found themselves in your predicament, and we have always welcomed them with open arms and open minds. You will not be any different, Herald of the Moon," he continued, translating my middle name.
Arandur grinned, his day-sky eyes twinkling with merriment. "You're very lucky that we are not traveling with any of the Ar'Tel'Quessir. They are not as welcoming as us."
This I knew. The Ar'Tel'Quessir (more commonly referred to as gold, sun, or high elves) were a more learned race, and didn't have much tolerance for half-elves, and even less for any other race. Rinion had told me of his travels with his people when he first entered our life, and made mention of a small group of Ar'Tel'Quessir traveling with them for a couple of months. They had looked upon his mother with much pity in their eyes, though Rinion did not suspect it to be genuine. He got the impression that it was feigned for the sake of keeping the peace with his people. He said they were always mumbling about how learning the customs and culture of any of the other races was harming their own, and made themselves scarce when their fair-skinned cousins would enter into human towns.
"With your consent," Beriadan started, "we would like to camp this evening with you, and then we'll take you to the rest of our little group."
I was stunned. I didn't think, for a second, that they would agree to take me on their travels with them without some persuasion. They seemed to sense my thoughts, for they both grinned and settled onto the grass of the very small clearing I had found for my camp. They were silent a moment, their eyes oddly illuminated in the flickering firelight.
"There was one that traveled with us for a long time," Arandur said, quickly changing subjects on me. "He talked of finding his half sister. We believe he was doing so for his mother's sake, for she was growing weaker by the day. He did not know where to start, however, and we couldn't help him with this. All we had to go on was an elven name, and we suspected that his half sister would not be using that name, not since the woman had given her up to a human family. His mother tried her best to describe the half sister, but she hadn't seen her since she was an infant...."
My eyes grew wider, and all I could do was stare at them for a moment. "You know my uncle, Rinion?"
Their smiles grew wider, then, and Beriadan said, "Yes, he was well-liked amongst us. Our race has mixed with many over the years, Damien Casnes, resulting in thousands of children that are each uniquely and supremely different from us, and very much like us. However, there are not many of their number that have scales...."
Again, I actually thanked the Lady for the part of myself that I have always been self-conscious about. For, now, rather than them being a source of discomfort, my scales were actually useful....
- D
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Posted: Wed Sep 30, 2009 6:05 pm
Journal 29 September, 2009
We left for the camp at first light the next morning. The journey was uneventful, as it didn't last very long. But, during that time, I studied the way that Arandur and Beriadan moved through the forest. I was light of foot, but I couldn't hold a candle to the elves that I was now traveling with. Where I would make a sound every now and again, they made none - the air seemed to bend to their will, as well. Never a whisper as they cut through it, never a rustle as their clothes moved with their movements, the beading in Arandur's braids made not a sound as his hair moved. It was all a fascinating display, a wonderful, graceful dance through the woods ... a dance I desperately wished to learn.
As with many things, I would come to learn, mere observation would not be the key to unlocking the knowledge of soundless movement. It would take tutelage, and practice - months of practice. I inherited elven grace, that much was sure, but I had never learned its full potential. My sharp mind would be beneficial to me in the coming months, I just didn't know it yet.
I am getting ahead of myself, though, which is something that I do not wish to do. Getting back to the matter at hand:
We entered the temporary home of the Teu'Tel'Quessir ten days after we left my modest little camp. My eyes widened at the sight before me, and I found myself stopping in my tracks.
Beriadan seemed to be the one that noticed, for he walked back toward me, stepped up beside me, and beheld the very same sight that I was not looking upon. Quietly, for he knew that I could hear, he explained, "Singing ... as in the sort of singing that your gifted uncle does, is not something that comes naturally to us. During his stay with us, he taught a few of the gifted his secrets. They're still learning, but I think they're doing a fair job of it."
"Le hannon," I said, dumbly.
I do not think that was the reaction that Beriadan had thought would well up in me, for he turned slightly startled eyes to me, and blinked once - very slowly. "Why do you thank me?" he asked.
I smiled, not at all apologetic or sheepish, when I turned to meet his eyes. "I thank you because you trusted me enough to bring me here. I thank you because you've helped me reach my goals. I thank you because I feel as though you've brought me ... amar."
Beriadan clapped my shoulder, grinning merrily, and I almost blushed. I was not one to let such things out, especially with someone that I didn't know all that well. But, he seemed to understand, for he rested the palm of his other hand square in the middle of his chest - right over his heart. "Amar is the place you carry with you always ... amar is where your heart can rest, where you can be at peace. It is not really a place, but a state of mind. This is the thinking of the Teu'Tel'Quessir, and I think that you inherited that very spirit, Damien Casnes."
The smile was still upon my lips as I turned to take in the majesty before me once more. The simplicity of the 'camp' was what made it all the more beautiful. Homes had, indeed, be sung from the trees - trees that had been grown larger, wider by that very same process. There were not very many, perhaps twenty, and in each of them, there seemed to be no more than three homes each. This made me wonder just how many elves were living here.... The grass around the homes was buzzing with activity - conversation, elves washing clothing in the river that wound straight through the camp, elves sweeping the leaves off of their porches in the trees.
Everything was light, dimly, by the setting sun filtering through the trees. Soon, however, a different sort of illumination could be seen. I didn't know how they did it, but there were large, white flowers hanging from the branches that connected the trees - flowers that looked very much like water lilies - and they all started to glow. It was all so magically beautiful that I found myself rooted to my spot. I was unable to move, for my eyes were doing all the moving for me.
"Rhaich," Beriadan's mumble brought me out of my thoughts, had me turning to look at him. He wasn't looking at me, however, but staring off in the distance in front of us. I followed his eyes, hoping to find the source of his seeming displeasure. All I could see was a woman.
'Woman' was not the right word for her, for she was more beautiful than any other woman I had laid eyes upon. Her skin was a warm, sun-kissed bronze and her long hair looked as though it had been spun from the finest gold and gleamed with a shine to rival the sun. Even from this distance I could see her eyes, and they were the color of liquid gold. Before she had turned in our direction, I caught a glimpse of a large tattoo taking up the whole of her back, and showcased with the open back of her dazzling, gold silk dress - it was an intricate, flaming phoenix, its wings stretched across her shoulder blades and pointed up toward her neck, the long plumage of its gorgeous tail dipping down the small of her back and disappearing under the fabric of her dress.
She flipped the long braid over her shoulder, covering her back, as she turned to look our way. Her long lashes dipped over her eyes as they narrowed a little. I knew that she wasn't squinting in hopes to better see Beriadan or I; she was an elf, there was no need for that. Instead, her gaze was locked with Beriadan's, her look of displeasure accented by the frown of her full, glossed lips. She straightened her back, drew her shoulders back as though preparing for battle, and grabbed up the hem of her flowing skirt. Instead of marching toward us, however, as I assumed she might, she spun gracefully in delicately sandled feet and retreated through a doorway in one of the large trees. I could hear the slam of the door as she closed it behind her.
My eyebrows winged up as I looked at Beriadan again, this time for an explanation. "Laerwen," was his only word, at first. When it became apparent that I was not going to go away, he sighed. "Laerwen is an Ar'Tel'Quessir that travels with us more than any of her people. She's a little more tolerant of others than one would expect, but not very much more."
I nodded my understanding, holding in the sigh that reflexively wanted to be let out. But, Beriadan was clapping me on my back, and grinning once more. "Do not worry, Damien Casnes," he started, humor dancing in his eyes. "That look was not over your coming here, as far as I know. She and I have a history.... Now, come. We need to find a place for you to sleep."
- D
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Posted: Wed Sep 30, 2009 9:24 pm
Journal 30 September, 2009
I soon found out that 'finding me a place to sleep' was really Beriadan's way of saying, "We're going to go find Cuiledhwen (koo-eel-ehth-wehn) and make her sing you a room." I hadn't meant for anyone to go through all that trouble, I had planned on camping out, as I had been doing most of my journey, but Cuiledhwen insisted that I let her do this, she informed me that I had been traveling without the little comforts for too long. And, she would not take no for an answer, insisted that she enjoyed doing this sort of work - even went so far as to complain that the others had given her little else to do since they had settled in this spot.
She grilled me, asked me about the home I grew up in, the architecture of it, what my room and my favorite spots in the home had looked like. I tried my best to relay it all to her, wondering why she had been asking me the questions in the first place. It became apparent after we finally picked out a relatively uninhabited tree. Cuiledhwen informed me it wouldn't take long to sing my new, temporary residence, she said that making the trees larger took longer than anything else. I counted myself lucky, since all I really wanted to do was find a place to curl up and go to sleep.
As curious as I was to watch her work, I found myself unable to ignore the travel grime anymore. So, I left my residence in the obviously capable hands of the elf, and went in search of a place to clean up. I followed the river out of the camp, hoping to find some privacy somewhere further down stream. But, I was finding this increasingly impossible, for I was not the only one who had an evening bath in mind. As I walked along the river bank, I heard faint voices, the musical sound of laughter, and the sound of splashing water. I pulled my cloak tighter around me and ducked my head, allowing my long hair to fall over my face in a curtain in order to offer those that were assembled in the water a measure of privacy.
As I strode, I heard someone call out my name. Forgetting myself for a moment, I turned in the direction of the voice, and saw a small group of the travelers bathing, one of them waving at me. Arandur had seen me, and was beckoning for me to join them. I thank the Lady that I did not blush, for there were women bathing with him as well. I managed a meek smile that I could feel did not reach my eyes, and hurried further along the river. There was no way I was disrobing in front of complete strangers and bathing ... hells, I wouldn't do that in front of anyone I knew!
After my hasty retreat, I found a deeper part of the river. I could find no one around, and I sighed my relief. As I settled on the bank of the river, untying my traveling boots and tugging them off, I heard the sound of water being disturbed. To my horror, a golden head bobbed to the surface. Thankfully, their back was to me. There was a voice in my head, telling me to turn around and run away, but I watched as the woman pulled her hair over her shoulder, exposing her back as she wrung the long strands out. I didn't need to see the phoenix tattoo to know who it was, however, though I was finally able to see where the ends of the plumage on it's tail curled to their end - on her right glute. To add embarrassment to my horror, I could feel my usual blush spread to my throat and the tips of my pointed ears as I finally scrambled to my now bare feet, and spun around.
I could hear the water move as I tried to escape, and could only guess that Laerwen had turned to see me gathering up my boots. This was confirmed when I heard an irritated sigh coming from her direction. "Is there no privacy in this place?" she muttered, exasperated. I could hear the water sloshing around, the sound getting closer ... she was making her way toward the bank.
"Goheno nin!" I started, apologizing. "Nîn hiril, I didn't see you."
"Hmph," Laerwen started, and I heard her feet sink into the sandy bank. "At least someone taught you manners, more than I can say for others like you." Mild disinterest was mixed in with her irritated tone. She walked past me, presumably toward her clothes, or so I hoped. Instead, she rounded on me.
My eyes immediately flicked up toward the leafy canopy of the trees, and they began searching for sky, as though the act of counting stars would help take my mind off of the fact that there was a petit Ar'Tel'Quessir standing, naked, before me.
"You'll soon get over that, I think," she said, and I hazarded a glance down, and met her molten eyes. "Even if the blush might be endearing ... to some."
I felt the color get darker as my face grew hotter, and I was looking back up at the leaves once more. "Again, I beg your forgiveness-"
She interrupted me, "Stop. Ugh," she added, and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. Finally, blessedly, I heard the rustling of clothing, felt the wish of air being disturbed as the clothing was moved. "I'm dressed. The river is yours ..." I looked down at her when she paused, and noted that her eyebrows were raised, as though she were waiting for me to supply her with a name. When I did, she said, "I'm Laerwen Gwirithiel Glawar," she supplied, "And, this is where I'll leave you. Calo anor na ven."
"May the sun shine on your road, as well, Laerwen Gwirithiel," I managed to mumble as she left. As soon as I was sure that she was gone, I quickly took my bath, for I feared that my little slice of privacy would be interrupted, just as I had interrupted Laerwen's.
And, that was the first time that I - properly - met Laerwen....
- D
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Posted: Thu Oct 01, 2009 3:36 pm
Journal 1 October, 2009
When I returned to the tree that was to be my home for a little while, Cuiledhwen was sitting in the entry way, leaning against the 'door' jam, combing her long black hair with what appeared to be a modified tree branch. She didn't look tired, simply bored, as though my quick bath had taken longer than she had wanted it to. She waited a little bit before she even acknowledged my presence, finishing the task of combing through her hair, before she looked up at me with twinkling green eyes and jumped to her feet. "Your residence is complete, Damien Casnes," she said, rather proudly. She was grinning at me, almost as though there was a secret that she was concealing. I couldn't think of what it could possibly be, especially since I was still a little frazzled over my earlier experiences at the river.
She stepped aside, sweeping her arm through the door way, beckoning me to enter before she did. I looked at her, suspicious, before I moved inside. True to her word, it was not a very big space, but I suspected that it was a two-level residence, as I saw a short flight of stairs in the curved wall. Dead center of the ceiling, the largest of the illuminated flowers I had mentioned earlier was hanging, lighting the whole area. The space was open, despite it seeming to serve two purposes. The first function seemed to be a lounging area of sorts, with the chairs and low table grown from the tree itself. My eyes lingered on the chairs, for the seats seemed to cup, as though awaiting a comfortable pillow or cushion. Cuiledhwen seemed to notice where my thoughts were going, for she said, "Don't worry, I am sure a few of the others will gladly trade with you for cushions."
I nodded, and smiled at her in thanks before continuing toward what could only be described as a short bar. ON the other side of it was a small cabinet to store salted meat, and a sturdy pit in which to cook my meals. It was filled with rocks and soil as though to help keep the fire from spreading to the rest of the tree. I glanced up and noted a hole in the ceiling, glimpsed a view of the canopy outside.
"There's a cover for that, for when it rains," Cuiledhwen informed me. She gestured toward the circular piece of wood leaning against the wall.
"So noted," I replied, still grinning.
"Upstairs is your bedroom, and you'll have to barter for bed stuffs as well, along with toiletries if you do not have them. There's a basin and wooden pitcher for quick wash ups."
I could not have been more grateful, and I took her hands in mine, meeting her dancing green eyes once more. "Thank you for this," I said.
If she was flustered at all, she did not show it. Indeed, she stood on her toes and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I flushed once more, which sent her into a fit of laughter. "I'd love to stick around and see your reaction to the bedroom, but I have household things of my own to take care of." Here, she paused, merry eyes looking at me thoughtfully. "Damien Casnes, it is good to have you amongst our people. I sense that there is much we can learn from you, even as you learn from us. Rest well." And, with that she slipped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
I sighed, travel weary now, and leaned heavily against the bar. I was tempted to curl on top of it and just drift into sleep, but I knew something that resembled a proper bed was awaiting me upstairs. So, I gathered my pack and trudged up the short flight.
What met my eyes had me pause once more. Here I saw an exact replica of my room back home, only smaller. The bed exactly the same, the shelves were exactly where I had described them, there was even a little desk and a chair to match those I had left in the Haven. I couldn't really believe what I was seeing, and now that I saw the completed work - the whole picture, if you will - my thanks from before did not seem adequate.
I did not have too much time to think on this, however, for my lids were growing much too heavy to remain open for much longer. I quickly grabbed my makeshift bed dressings and made my bed as best as I could before I laid down and drifted off into the black.
- D
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Posted: Fri Oct 02, 2009 9:37 pm
Journal 2 October, 2009
Getting what I needed was easier than I had imagined - especially when the others found out that the magic that I inherited from Mum Lenore was a bit different from elven magic. Potions were especially popular, and I found myself spending the following days brewing various potions in order to get the things needed to furnish my current home.
It took a week and a half, but I finally had all that I needed. I got a nice, well-made down mattress for my bed, squishy, comfortable cushions for my chairs, and some new toiletries. The soaps and shampoos I had managed to procure had a different scent to them than the ones that I had found in the shops back home. They seemed more earthy, helped you better blend in with the wooded surroundings and left you feeling more refreshed than any bath had the right to. I also managed to get two sets of clothing that leaned more toward my usual tastes - even if they were more brightly colored than I was used to. The more interesting of the two was a tunic that had one of the most interesting colored cloth I had seen yet - the pinks, reds, oranges, and yellows that blazed the sky at sunset faded into the deeper, more soothing colors of night with golden and silver stars embroidered intricately throughout it.
When the trades had finally been made, I had more time for wandering around. At first, I spent most of my time with Beriadan and Arandur, as I had become more comfortable with them. But, they were part of a small group of hunters for the traveling band, and soon they had been sent out to replenish the stocks. Then, my days were spent alongside Cuiledhwen learning exactly which of the fruit around the area was edible and which weren't. She also began to teach me about the various herbs found there. Though the small supply of ingredients I had brought along with me had been depleted, I soon found interesting things to toy with should I feel the need to brew something up.
It was on one such outing that I ran into Laerwen again. I had seen her around the camp but had made sure to give her a wide birth on such occasions. I had never been one to force my company upon someone who didn't want it, and I believed that Laerwen would have preferred that she had nothing to do with me; perhaps even hoped that I would be leaving soon. I didn't know how long she intended to stay with the Teu'Tel'Quessir, but I learned through the observation of the others that Beriadan's words had been true. Laerwen's presence here seemed right, as though they all knew her and were used to her being around. I could only conclude that she did, in fact, travel with them often, and that her stays with them were long ones.
She had taken me quite by surprise when she made her presence known. So engrossed in collecting had I become that I hadn't really been paying attention to my surroundings. I was close enough to the camp, after all.... Reading that now, I can't imagine what my dear sister's reaction to that would be. It wasn't until I turned to go back to camp that I, literally, bumped into her. I had been putting the freshly cut herbs into the pouch that I had tied around my belt, intent on doing so with care so as not to crush them. It didn't matter, because I slammed into her, crushing the pouch between us in the process.
I stepped back, muttering my apologies as I did so, and then I checked my pouch. A sigh of regret escaped my lips as I noted a morning's worth of work had been wasted.
"It serves you right, you know. For not watching where you're going," Laerwen said, eying me with irritation.
For some reason, the comment sparked a rare flare of temper in me. "One should not loom over someone unannounced," I said with a regrettable snap.
Laerwen's brow quirked as she tilted her head, regarding me with an odd mix of frustration and amusement. "I was not looming. I was actually looking for you."
I let out a mirthless laugh, but said nothing else. I simply bowed my head slightly, as though dismissing myself from the conversation, and proceeded to step around her.
"You don't believe me?" she asked as she sidestepped to bar my path.
"Forgive me, but no," I replied, trying once more to go around her.
She was not going to let me escape, and I could tell that my seeming unwillingness to hear her out was annoying her. "We need to talk."
I sighed. Being the only male in a household full of women made it easy to figure out their moods simply by paying attention to the tone in which they spoke them. "What could I have possibly done to you?" I asked. "I've had no contact with you since the river, and that was days ago."
Laerwen narrowed her eyes at me a moment, as though trying to figure out the best way to approach me. "You're treading into my territory," she finally said.
Temper gave way to confusion as I wondered just what in the hells she was talking about. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your potions," she said, straightening the rich fabric of her pearlescent skirt. "I'm a healer, and my services are what allow me to live in this community. It's all I have to barter."
I blinked at her, still confused. "Well, I certainly didn't mean-"
"I know. Which is why I'm being as nice as I am," Laerwen said testily, which caused me to snort - rather involuntarily.
"You call that nice?" I asked, incredulously.
Laerwen looked at me, now she was the one confused. "I can be rude, if you like," she offered, the hint of a threat in her voice.
"Don't bother," I said, frowning. "I'm already witnessing it."
She shrugged daintily, and dismissively. "If you say so. You're aware of the situation now, and that's all that matters. Just keep your pretty little nose out of my territory next time."
I could do nothing but gape at her. 'Unbelievable,' I thought as I shook my head in disbelief over the petite elf. "If you'll excuse me," I started, noting that I was gritting my teeth. "I've got a morning's worth of work to make up for."
"Would you like some help?" I heard her ask as I turned my back on her. Her offer seemed genuine, at least judging from her tone, and I was floored. I couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth as I turned to look at her. "Is there something wrong with you? Do you have a split personality or something?" I asked, staring at her.
The hurt that flitted through her eyes seemed genuine, which only seemed to point to the validity of my question. "No," she said, thrusting her chin into the air as her back straightened. I could see her long fingers fold as she balled her hands into fists. "And, I resent that." As though to prove her point, she shoved me - right in my previously broken rib.
The injury still played up, causing me to believe that it had not healed properly. Now, a stab of pain coursed through me, and I gasped sharply.
Laerwen's eyes widened a fraction before she narrowed them at me. I could feel her hands gently probing my rib cage. Then, she was frowning. "What butcher healed you?"
"A kind woman," I replied, annoyed at her slight. Beth had done her best, after all.
"Human, no doubt," she said, her nose wrinkling. "I can fix this," she added, pressing her palm against my ribs.
I backed away from her touch, yanked on the bottom of my tunic to straighten it even as I straightened my back. Her irrational dislike of Beth - and simply due to the fact that she was a human - really was getting under my skin. "No, thank you," I said, my annoyance with her plainly noticeable now.
"Don't be silly," she said shortly. Laerwen was unable to hold back the wince that accompanied those words. "Besides, I have to do it now that I know you're hurt."
I backed away as she moved toward me again, eyeing her as she winced once more. Gracefully, she lifted her hand to her brow, closing her eyes as she did so. Despite my earlier annoyance and frustration with her, I grew concerned. I lifted my hand, rested it on her shoulder, and stooped down so that I could try to meet her eyes. "Are you -"
Quick as a flash, her hands were on my ribs once more, and her head had fallen back, effectively interrupting the question I was about to ask. Her eyes remained closed as a look of concentration crossed her face. I tried to step back once more, but one of her hands shot up and grabbed my arm in a vise-like grip. Apparently, her thin frame disguised the strength that she possessed. So, I settled, allowing her to do whatever it was that she felt compelled to.
Suddenly, a feeling of warmth radiated from the 'injured' rib and began to spread throughout my body. And, then, quite suddenly, sharp pain - like a million needles being stabbed through my skin and down deep into my rib - coursed through my body. I grit my teeth against it, but held fast; even though - and it pains me to admit this - I wanted nothing more than to pull away from Laerwen, or to push her away from me. The pain kept intensifying, until it felt as though I was being stabbed over and over again. This went on for several minutes, and I began to find it harder and harder not to give in to the urge to push her away. When my resolve was finally about to shatter I went blessedly numb. Laerwen swayed on her feet before her hands went to my shoulders and she leaned heavily against me. Instinctively, my arms wound around her waist as she breathed heavily into my chest.
Finally, I snapped out of the stupor I had found myself in, and I said gently, "Laerwen, let's get you sitting down."
Slowly, she nodded. I helped her to sit, settling down next to her. She let one hand slide away from my shoulder, moving it to her brow once more, but she kept her other right where it was and moved her head so that she might rest it atop the hand that was on my shoulder. After a long pause, she whispered, "Damien Casnes, I think I might have misjudged you...."
Another shock, and I was nonplussed once more. Firstly, I didn't know just what had made her say those words, and secondly ... well, it had to have taken a lot for a woman like Laerwen to say something like that. It took me a moment to figure out just what to say to that. I settled on the direct approach, for I hadn't the head for flowery speech at that moment. "I am afraid you have me at a loss. I don't know what you're talking about."
Laerwen lifted her head and sought out my eyes. When our gaze locked, I could see the hint of sadness and pity in her weary eyes. "Your injury," she started, clearly collecting her thoughts. "When I heal, I also catch glimpses of how the person got the injury...."
I could feel the muscles in my jaw tightening as I thought of the circumstances that resulted in the broken rib. Something in her must have sense my unwillingness to speak on the subject, for she pulled away from me completely and regained some measure of composure.
"Come," she said, standing before she held her hand out for mine. "We've got a lot of work to do if we are to replace all of those herbs that you collected. I think it best that we begin, don't you?"
I looked up at her hand like it was something completely foreign to me. When I glanced up at her face, her eyebrows winged up expectantly. Hesitantly, I took her hand....
- D
Things were going to get better, he knew that for sure now. He had taken the last steps he had needed to take to forgive himself. To think, all he had to do was recount his journey, to write in that journal that Rhiannon had given him. If he had known that, he might have done it a lot sooner. But, then, he would not have been compelled to go on such a journey, he would not have met the people that he had, gone through the trials that he had; more importantly he would not have grown. He would still be that naive boy that had left his home so long ago. No, it was more likely that it was just the right time for him.
All that mattered was that he was getting there....
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Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2009 12:36 am
Journal 5 October, 2009
The day I spent collecting replacement for my ruined herbs with Laerwen was the first of many days that I spent with her. At first, it was tense. I would do or say something that would set off her temper and she would get on her famous sun elf high-horse, which only sent my temper flaring. Or she would make an off-handed, rude assumption about any non-elves, and I would find myself giving her the cold shoulder.
It was only after weeks of keeping constant company with each other that I finally got to the root of her problems.
"Daro i!" I finally said after yet another of her 'comments'. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. Slowly, I silently counted to ten, trying to reign in my temper. "If you honestly feel that way about anyone other than the 'pure bloods', what are you doing spending so much time with me?"
Her golden eyes widened a fraction as she blinked rapidly - clearly shocked. As was the customer when such instances arose, I could see her backtracking in her mind, trying to remember just what she had said this time to set me off. Then, the customary wince that accompanied the memory of what was said. "Goheno nin," she said. I had grown quite adept at discerning whether or not she was being genuine. This time she was. She sighed, her brow furrowing under her glittering gold circlet. "I ... well...."
It was my turn to sigh, and I waved my hand; the only sign that I had accepted her apology. It was a long time before I even thought to speak again; moments of me staring up into the canopy of the trees around us, moments of me searching for the sky through the leaves. I listened to the songs of the birds, the sighs of the trees as the wind caressed them, the laughter of the river not too far away from us; all of the songs blending together to become a symphony - one that always captures my attention, one that always calms me.
"You never answered my question," I started, choosing my words as carefully as I could. "If you dislike anyone other than elves, even those that are only half, then what are you doing bothering with me?"
She shifted uncomfortably, and then rose to her feet. She brushed her hand over her shirt, as though trying to brush the grass off of it. There was no need, she always managed to keep herself spotless. "Maybe it is my sincerest hope that you will be the one that changes my mind, Damien Casnes," she snapped. I simply stared at her back, for she had turned it toward me. I watched as the muscles moved under her sun-bronze skin as she grabbed up her long, glistening hair. I watched as she went about the task of braiding it into one long braid, and I waited for her to calm down enough to finally tell me what was really going on with her.
She sighed, and looked back at me over her shoulder. "Well, say something!" she demanded before she turned away from me again. "You've grown a deeper insight into my inner workings these past few weeks, so you must have some answer."
"I don't," I admitted, keeping my voice soft and even.
She swore, crossed her arms in front of her, but continued to keep her back to me. I was patient, waited for this storm to pass, and I knew it would. Laerwen was complicated, yes, but her temper usually burned out pretty quickly; at least where I was concerned. "It's habit," she said, simply. "I've spent years and years with my own people, growing up with them voicing their views, listening to their debates. I've taken part in several of our councils with the other elves, listened to the differing views. And, I have spent the whole of my life doing my best not to give my family any reason to hang their heads over my actions."
I waited a moment, nodded slightly over what she was saying. "So ... what you're saying is that you don't really believe anything that you say?"
"No, I am not saying that," Laerwen said. Finally, she turned to face me, her eyes a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "Most of it, yes, I believe. But, there are parts of it that I disagree with. The Teu'Tel'Quessir have opened my eyes to a great many things."
"I ... don't understand," I admitted.
She took a few tentative steps toward me. I marked her progress, watched as her steps grew more sure, and then the graceful sweep as she lowered herself to sit next to me once more. She smiled slightly, and looked up at me through her long lashes. Just as I was the first day that I had seen her, I was struck by her beauty. "That's fine," she said softly. "I did not make myself clear. I should try and explain it better." She grew quiet once more and looked away from me. She turned her gaze up to the canopy above us. "My people don't hate ... not really. They might think themselves better than others, but sometimes I think it helps them. They believe that we are losing ourselves ... as elves. With each elf that embraces another race's culture, incorporates their customs into their daily living, we are losing a little of ourselves. I agree with that ... but I do not wish to close myself off to the others as they do. I just ... I keep myself distant from things so that I do not lose myself. And, I say most of the things I do out of habit, so that I am not ... well, I am not discovered."
I nodded again, but found myself saying, "That's not the way to live, Laerwen. By doing that, you're denying yourself."
"I know," she sighed again. Then, she reached for my hand. I let her take it, watched as she looked down at my scales. Watched as she lifted her other hand, and then as she ran her fingertip along them. "Not all of us are blessed with as understanding a family as yours. I was a great disappointment from birth, for not having been a son. When we lost my mother, well ... my father knew that he would never be with another, and I had been the only child that they had. So, I have a duty to him. I need to make him proud. If I have to act, then so be it. It isn't for my whole existence, and when I am away from the others I let the role slip a little and allow myself some freedom."
I was not one to preach, so I did not press my point. If that was how Laerwen wished to live her life, then I was not going to stop her. So, instead, I made one request of her. "I would prefer if you would stop acting around me," I started, gently pulling my hand out of her grasp. "I take exception to the things you say, especially now that I know that you don't really mean it. I have no expectations of you, Laerwen Gwirithiel. When you're in my company, you don't have to pretend."
Laerwen folded her hands in her lap, turning away from me once more. I couldn't even begin to fathom what was going on in her mind, even as I am sitting here writing. I could read her at times, but when she wanted things to remain a mystery she was very good at keeping it that way. Finally, she nodded. "Fine, we'll do things your way, Damien. But, do not hold my slips against me."
I found myself smiling, and could see the corner of her lips twitching as though she were doing her best to keep a smile in. "Alright, I will try not to get so angry next time...."
- D
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Posted: Thu Oct 08, 2009 10:55 pm
Journal 8 October, 2009
After our talk, I could tell Laerwen was making an effort, that she was doing her best to think before she spoke. That is, at least when it was just the two of us. I understood, now, why she said the things that she did, but I could never condone her behaviour. I tried my best to overlook her slights while we were in the company of the others, but I was finding it increasingly difficult. I did not like the two masks that Laerwen wore. I had begun to grow fond of the real Laerwen, and I hated the fact that she slipped away the moment we returned to the camp, leaving only the bigot in her wake.
I had begun to ask her to return before I did, as I hoped to avoid all contact with the false Laerwen - especially since her comments usually ran toward the half-elf vein. I could tell that this confused her some, but I honestly didn't know why it would. I had already made my thoughts on the matter clear to her, and she was far from a stupid woman; she should have been able to understand.
I finally broached the subject with her one afternoon. I remember this one clearly as it was the night of the lunar celebration - the first I would be attending, as I had arrived at the camp the evening after the previous month's festivities.
"Why do you even bother with it anymore?" I asked. My voice was soft, but I knew she could hear me.
"Bother with it?" was her response.
I was silent a moment, gathering my thoughts. "They know you spend most of your time with me. Surely they'd suspect that you don't really mean what you say."
Laerwen blinked as I watched as what I said started to make an odd bit of sense to her. She frowned, turning away from me in favor of looking down at her silver-embroidered black gown, a gown that she had told me she had bartered for this night. "I had not thought of that," she admitted aloud, though it seemed more like she was talking to her hands. "Perhaps we should stop spending so much time together?"
At first, I was stunned. But, soon enough that gave way to hurt ... and an anger I had yet to really feel in my short life. "You're unbelievable," I said, shaking my head as I stared at her with narrowed eyes. I leaned over to gather my things, stuffed them angrily into my traveling pack.
"Damien-"
"No," I interrupted. "I finally know the lengths you will go to to please your father and to insure the believability of your farce." I didn't say the other thoughts that were running through my mind, because I could not fully understand them myself. Where had this hurt come from? Why did I feel betrayed? I could not answer those questions - especially while in the presence of the very woman that had caused such notions to arise.
"Damien, please," she said as I started to walk away. I could hear her footsteps as she started after me.
"Laerwen, don't," I said. I immediately heard her stop, and continued on. I left her alone in our favorite part of the woods, shifting the strap of my pack so that it wasn't biting into my neck. I began the slow process of pushing the unpleasant thoughts from my mind as I made my way back to my modest dwelling. I had the celebration to get ready for and I would need all of my wits about me. I wouldn't allow Laerwen to distract me.
~*~*~***~*~*~
The lunar celebration happens every full moon. The Teu'Tel'Quessir were not named such on accident, they reveled in the night and loved to bathe in the moon's glow. I had always loved the night, loved to be out in the forests of Emerald Haven - especially when there was a full moon. The pull of the moon was in my blood and that night I felt more alive than any other.
An odd thing, really, and I suspected that it had everything to do with the upcoming festivities. I had managed to push my ill temper aside as I had washed up for the evening. I donned my new tunic - a gift from Cuiledhwen. It had a night theme, despite the bright turquois color of the fabric.
Soon enough, I was gathered around the great fire that had been erected in the middle of the camp. And the evening gets hazy after this. I had been warned about the potency of elven wine, but Uncle Rinion had never seen fit to warn me about their celebrations.
I remember the dancing, I remember the singing - I remember how it struck me with its beauty. I remember Cuiledhwen taking my hand and pulling me into the mix, and I remember her patience as she taught me the dances. And, I remember taking a few drinks of wine.
I recall Laerwen approaching me, and I recall her pulling me aside. Blessedly ... I remember our first kiss.
She'd been apologizing to me, telling me how she hadn't really meant what she said. I don't recall how I responded, only that she had gotten closer to me and that her palms were resting on my chest. My arms had found their way around her waist, and she graced me with the most charming smile I had seen curl her lips. Then, we were kissing.
In that moment, I realized why I had felt the way that I had earlier. In the month that we had kept constant company with one another, I had grown to care about her. Unfortunately, I could not tell if it was the night's celebrations that had caused her actions. Somehow, that didn't matter then.
The rest of the night is still a complete blank.
~*~*~***~*~*~
I awoke around midday. I was still groggy from the night before, and I was sure that the elven wine I had decided to drink had a lot to do with that. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light filtering in through the window, I realized that I was not in my room. The first indication was the curtains covering the canopy above where I was laying. I had a canopy in my home, but I had yet to barter anything for anything to put on it. Here, I was surrounded by gauzy, sheer fabric that seemed to be the exact, shimmering shade of sunlight. The bed dressings were different, as well - an autumn theme was here, burnished oranges and russets covered my body.
That was when I realized that I had lost my tunic somewhere during the night. Not only that, but there was a weight upon my chest. Slowly, almost too scared, I admit, to see what was the source, I looked down. My eyes met the top of a clearly feminine head, capped with shimmering gold strands of hair. Sun-bronzed skin was a stark contrast to my own pale, and my heart immediately stuttered. What had I done?
I tried to move without waking Laerwen, but I soon found that there was no need. The moment that I began to slowly inch toward the edge of the bed, her long fingers began to idly trace circles on my stomach. She moved her head so that she could look up at me with liquid gold eyes, and her full lips smiled a little. I could see amusement twinkling in her eyes, and I could only guess why. I must have looked horrified, my sensibilities having totally been shattered.
"I'd begun to wonder if you were going to sleep the day away," she said, her voice still throaty from sleep. Slowly, she pulled away from me, careful to pull the sheet up with her.
By the Lady, she was naked. And I ... well, I still had my bottoms on, thankfully, but I noted they were undone. I desperately searched my memories, hoping for some inkling of what the hell happened after that kiss. Nothing, it was all black. I gulped.
Laerwen's smile only widened, and she slipped off of the bed. Deftly, she wrapped the sheet around her as she padded on bare feet toward her wardrobe. She ran her fingers through her hair, which tumbled down toward the small of her back. I watched as she examined her clothes, presumably looking for something to wear. "Your tunic is on the chair over there," she said, off-handedly.
I glanced toward her desk, and sure enough it was on the back of the chair. From the looks of it, it had been thrown carelessly. My scaled hands raised, and I rubbed my eyes. I was soon fisting my hands in my hair, as though the pain caused by pulling the strands would help jog my memory. Still nothing.
When I finally gathered the courage to look over at Laerwen, she was frowning at me. She looked only slightly hurt, by what I couldn't really say. Her hands fisted, and I could see the spark of her temper begin to blaze, I could see it spread through her like a wildfire through a drought-ridden forest. "Would it have been such a bad thing?" she demanded.
I could do nothing but stare at her. I had no idea what she was referring to, my mind just couldn't catch up to her.
"Don't worry," she snapped, striding toward the chair. She snatched up my tunic and threw it roughly at me. The fabric stung against my face as it hit me, and my hand automatically reached out to catch the article of clothing as it fell to my lap. "Nothing happened. You can leave now."
I was groggy, stupid with a hangover - the first I had ever had. But, things were starting to click. She thought that I was mortified because I had assumed that we had sex last night. More importantly, she thought I was mortified because it was with her. I would have laughed, I had the overwhelming urge to, but my survival instincts kicked in. "Laerwen, it's not-"
She interrupted me with an uncharacteristically icy stare. "Out! I don't want to see you right now!" she ordered, pointing toward the door.
In hindsight, I should have pressed the matter, made her listen to me. But, as it were, I didn't have my wits about me, and I sure as the hells couldn't deal with an ill-tempered woman in that state. Especially if that woman was Laerwen. I hurriedly slipped off of the bed, managed to at least slip my tunic on before I scurried out of the room.
I must have looked like a whipped puppy ... the memory of this makes me shake my head. However, I was saved from the humiliation of many of the others seeing. Apparently, I had not been the only one that had enjoyed the previous night a little too much. Thankfully, the camp was relatively empty....
- D
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 11:31 pm
Journal 13 October, 2009
I hadn't spoken to Laerwen for weeks. Not for lack of trying, mind you. I had tried over and over again to apologize, but she would have none of it. Finally, I gave up.
Instead, Gol and Naer took it upon themselves to continue my training. It was on one such afternoon that I was given the push needed to start on the path that I am now on.
Arandur found me that fateful afternoon. Thankfully, I had not been in the process of following Gol's instruction. Instead, I was eating the lunch I had packed earlier that morning.
When he stepped from the cover of the trees, I was not surprised. In fact, the reason I as breaking for lunch was not only because I was hungry, I had heard him lurking.
"Greetings, Damien Casnes," he said.
"Greetings," I replied. I then gestured for him to join me and offered him a drink from the canteen that I had packed.
He nodded his thanks and took the canteen in his hands. But, we were both silent for a long time after that.
It was he that broke the silence first. "You're getting better," he remarked. When I met his eyes, I could tell that he read the question that was in them. "Your swordsmanship," he clarified. "I've been watching you."
Apparently, my senses had not grown as keen as I thought they had. "Ah," was all that I could bring myself to say.
"You've had some training?" he asked.
"My sister was teaching me," was my response.
"Your magic," he started. "It's different from what we know."
There was a point to this, I reminded myself as I motioned for him to continue speaking. Arandur, I had found, was not one for small talk.
"Have you ever thought of combining the two?"
There, that was the point of this whole thing. "I have been counciled to look into the path of the blade singer," I admitted.
"That is one road you may take," he admitted. "However, I can see that you have an unusual connection with your swords. I was going to suggest something that would only strengthen the bond - the swordmage."
I had come across very little information about the swordmage in my studies. The path had always interested me, but I had never settled on it because of that fact.
"There is an elf that will be journeying with us soon," Arandur continued when it became apparent that I was not opposed to the idea. "It's his habit to come with us this half of the year, which is why I brought this up. He is a learned man, and a skilled swordsman. I can introduce you to him, if you like? He will be able to help you find the right fit for you, Damien Casnes."
I thought on it a moment, though I knew that I had already made up my mind. An actual tutor? Of course I would take Arandur up on his offer, I would be an idiot not to. "That is a generous offer ... one that I will accept, mellon."
"Then, I shall leave you to your training," he said, a merry twinkle blooming in his eyes. "I am supposed to be hunting," and with that, he darted back into the cover of the trees.
Once again, I was left alone with my thoughts, especially since I realized that I had finished my lunch while Arandur had been speaking with me.
"Well?" Bregolien demanded. "Are we going to continue, or are you just going to sit around and think, like you've been doing?"
"Now, I don't think that was called for," Naerdiel chimed in.
I stood, and I am sure that I sighed. I was in for more bickering.
- D
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 11:41 pm
Journal UNDATED
I don't know the date. And, to tell you the truth, I honestly don't know how long I have been on the run, so to speak. All I know is that I lost those perfect twins ... and I have to keep moving.
Well, the former I am not so sure about. It's all blurry, and I can't seem to think straight; I can't remember most of what has transpired, and I sure as hell can't seem to keep my thoughts in order.
I know that I have a wife, and I know that her name is Melantha. I know that she is beautiful with sparkling green eyes and shining ebon hair.
I know that I've borne a son, and that is looks more like my ex lover than he does me. I know that he is the kindest of us all, and the quietest. More importantly, I know that he is traveling, and that he is very much alive, for my path has crossed his a few times.
I know that I have adopted a daughter, and that she is the strongest and most stubborn of us all.
I know I have a half sister and a half brother, and I know that I have grown to accept them as family.
I know that I was pregnant when I left my home and I know that I am not now. I just don't know what happened to the babies!
I've gone mad, I know it. And, that bloody hunter is the cause! I lied to my dearest Mel when I said that it was I that was the danger to our family. I was, indirectly, a threat, yes, for I am being hunted and I know that my family would have been the perfect leverage. My darling, if this ever makes it back to you, forgive me!
I can't focus. Every instinct that I possess is telling me to cease this nonsense and move. But, I need to do this. I need to get word back to my loved ones.
Forgive me, for in my haste to protect all of you I bit off more than I could chew. I forgot that my greatest strength lies in you. I love you all.
- Lenore Silme-Losselin
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Posted: Thu Oct 15, 2009 12:50 am
Journal 14 October, 2009
This is where my journey took another interesting turn.
First, we were leaving out makeshift homes. Again, I was happy that I had my enchanted traveling pack with me, for I was able to fit all of my new cushions - save the large bed one - and most of my expanded wardrobe into it; along with all of my other essentials - such as food, water, books, and my journal, quills, and ink bottles.
Secondly, after three weeks of avoiding me, Laerwen showed up with an offer to pack my bed cushion with her things. She'd even brought a peace offering of curtains for the canopy of my bed. They were exquisite, one of the finest weaves I had seen. And, in an uncharacteristic sentimental turn, they were the exact color of my eyes with elaborate, gold-embroidered serpents.
I was nonplussed, I admit, when she gave them to me. I was forcing myself to recover - the last thing I wanted was to cause another misunderstanding - when Laerwen struck me dumb once more.
"I miss you," she said, her voice barely audible.
I could do nothing but stare at her. My voice seemed to have died along with my ability to think. Laerwen was complicated, yes, but I wondered if she would always have the ability to shock me so completely.
Again, just as I was about to speak, she interrupted me again. "Aren't you going to say something, Damien Casnes?"
"You aren't giving me the opportunity," I blurted. "Please, give me a moment to collect my thoughts." With a gesture, I invited her inside. She hesitated but a moment before she stepped over the threshold and I closed the door behind her.
I couldn't bring myself to look at her; not only because I still had some misguided guilt about how things had played out the last time we were together, but also because her earnest gaze was a distraction.
So, I paced, as was my sometime habit when deep in thought. My hands clasped behind my back as I tried to piece together what I wanted to say.
"I want to start with what I should have said the morning you threw me out," I started, glancing in her direction. Laerwen had the grace to look a little ashamed as I brought up the odd fight that had driven that wedge between us. "With what I wanted to say. Alas, my brain was too foggy for thought that morning."
I paused, mentally looking over what I was about to say - making sure that I really wanted to say it. Finally, It would not have been a bad thing, Laerwen Gwirithiel. However, I am glad that it didn't happen. I would have felt as though I had taken advantage of the situation."
Laerwen seemed genuinely shocked by my words, even as she opened her lips to respond. I gently, patiently, silenced her with a gesture and a small smile.
"There's more," I informed her. "I am happy, yes, that it did not happen because I would prefer that it was something I remembered. And ... I miss you, too." I finally ended, speaking those lost words as softly as she had.
"What are we doing?" she breathed.
I shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know," I replied. "But, that's the fun of it."
Laerwen snorted, a rather un-ladylike sound that I still find adorable even as I write this. "Fun? I've been miserable," she admitted faintly. As I nodded my agreement, she took the few steps necessary to bridge the distance between us. She took my hands in hers and looked up at me through her long lashes. "You're right, of course. If we think it to death, it can't blossom. And, I want to know how this chapter of my life plays out."
- D Journal 14 October, 2009 - continued
The evening's celebration had a more solemn, reverent tone to it than the lunar celebration. We all took our spots in front of our temporary homes to give our thanks for nature's blessing us with shelter, and to say out final goodbyes to the trees that served as our homes.
I lifted my hand, brushed my fingertips over the door to my first real home away from the Haven. The old tree had been good to me, had allowed me to live with it for seven weeks with no complaints. I gave my thanks and said my goodbyes, and Cuiledhwen stepped forward. She laid her pale hand on my shoulder and gave me a warm smile.
"Damien Casnes," she murmured, the look in her eyes almost maternal, causing a brief stab of home-sickness. As though to twist the knife, she lifted her hand from my shoulder so that she could place her palm on my cheek instead. "You are more one of us than you know." Then, she was turning away from me so that she could get to work.
Once the trees were sung back to their original states, camp fires were lit. Tents had been set up in small groupings. Our last night in this place was to be spent under the stars.
Laerwen and I had set up a tent away from the others. It seemed that, at least where I was concerned, she did not care what the others thought anymore. Indeed, we were even sharing the tent. I hoped this meant that she was making progress. We were just about to retire when something happened that would change the course of the evening.
We were entering the tent when Laerwen suddenly went rigid. She grew pale under her sun-bronzed skin and her eyes widened.
I knew the signs by now, and I didn't need to see her wince in pain to know what was going on. But, before I could even speak her name, she took off running.
Immediately I sprang after her, stopping only long enough to grab Gol and Naer. Laerwen's golden hair was my beacon in the night, and I followed those shimmering strands for what seemed like only a few minutes.
Both of us were winded by the time we stopped. Laerwen was staring straight ahead in horror. I am ashamed to admit that one look at her face left me unwilling to see what had brought us so far away from the camp.
The first thing that I noticed after I turned was all of the blood. It was splattered on the tree trunks around the body and all over the blades of grass. The woman herself was slumped forward, cradling two ... lifeless babies in her arms. Long green hair covered her face, but the undeniable truth that I knew this woman was not in her hair, or even the black horns and black, pointed, scaly tail ... but the scales on the back of her hands and up her forearms.
"Mum!" I cried out, alarmed. At that one word, the woman's head snapped up, and one of my earlier assumptions was proven wrong. The babies that my mother held in her arms were not dead. No, they were simply feeding on my mother, one of her fingers in each of their mouths.
Red-tinged amber irises regarded me with hostility at first, then confusion. And, finally, recognition. "Damien? she asked in a whisper, almost as though she did not want to believe it.
I felt Laerwen's hand on my shoulder and I looked down at her, into her eyes. She was full of sadness, and the pain that her compulsion caused in her. "She must feed," she murmured. Then without further explanation, Laerwen stepped around me and towards my mother.
I moved in to stop her, for my mother was now looking upon her with a hungry gaze. "You will not kill me, vampire," Laerwen said, shocking me with her use of what the elves call 'common'. It was the first time I had ever heard her speak it.
"Lenore," my mother corrected.
"Lenore," Laerwen acknowledged, bowing her head slightly as a sign of respect. "I'm here to help you, but first you must feed."
I knew my mother, she was overprotective of her children even in the best of circumstances. But, as it stood, she would be like a mother bear protecting her cubs. So, slowly, I moved closer to her. "Mum, let me hold the children while Laerwen helps you."
My mother's eyes turned to me, and they immediately softened. "Damien, I'm so happy your baby sisters."
Something was wrong with her, and I sensed it had nothing to do with her lack of blood. I didn't have time to think about that now, though. I had to stay focused on getting the babies away from her and keeping her from draining Laerwen dry.
"Mum, may I hold them?" I asked, holding out my arms for the twins.
"Of course, Damien. Don't be silly," my mother positively beamed. But, something was off about it. Still, she held the babies out for me to take, and I did - gingerly.
"Now, mum, pay close attention to me," I said as I got the infants secured in my arms. "Laerwen is going to allow you to feed on her," I still did not like it, but I knew how stubborn the sun elf could be - especially where this was concerned. "She's a very good friend, so you've got to be careful. If she says stop, you have to stop."
My poor mother, she seemed so confused. I didn't know if anything I was saying was sinking in. She nodded anyway, and I could tell that part of her, at least, seemed to understand what I was trying to say.
I sighed, rocking the infants. All I could do was watch. If things got out of hand, there wasn't much I could do. Hopefully Laerwen knew what she was doing.
She knelt beside my mother and pushed up the long sleeve of her robe, and offered my mother her wrist. She took it almost instantly. I winced as her fangs pierced Laerwen's wrist. But, as much as I wanted to, I knew I could not look away. I had to at least try to help if things got out of hand.
It wasn't long before Laerwen told my mother to stop. To my amazement, she did. The blood seemed to have done a little bit of good; I noticed a little of her color had come back and she did not seem quite so confused.
Before she did anything else, Laerwen healed herself. I could tell that she was not in the best of shape, but I kept my mouth shut. She had to do this, or her own pain would not fade away. "May I?' she asked my mother, gesturing toward her abdomen. It was odd, her being so cordial and respectful to my mother. Perhaps it was just because she knew that she could become her prey at any moment and didn't want to give her reason to think so. Or, it could have been as simple as the fact that she was my mother, or even that this sort of behaviour was customary for her when she was healing someone.
Whatever the case, I was grateful. Even more so when my mother nodded her consent.
Laerwen gently placed her hands on my mother's stomach, and grimaced in pain. "So much damage," she murmured. But, soon enough, her head fell back. This time, her eyes rolled up in their sockets, leaving only the whites visible, and her lips were moving frantically, soundlessly mouthing words.
I fidgeted as I looked on, thankful that the babies were asleep as I rocked them. It seemed like an eternity before Laerwen finally slumped over. Meanwhile, I noted that my mother was looking around, alarmed.
"Why am I here?" she demanded.
"Mum, you don't remember having the twins?" I asked her.
When her eyes lighted on me, her face twisted in horror. "What have I done?" she cried, jumping to her feet.
Laerwen looked up at me, a rare emotion in her eyes: pity. I didn't understand what could have brought that on....
But, my eyes were on my mother again; she was wild with panic and staring at me and my sisters with sadness. "Damien, you have to take them," she said, her voice urgent. "I can't explain, but it is not safe for them to be around me. None of you should be around me, come to that!"
"Mum, I can't take care of two infants," I protested.
"Damien Casnes," she snapped, her wild eyes turning toward me. "It takes a village. Do you honestly think I raised you and Nyoka all on my own? You will have help, if what Rinion has said about those elves you travel with is true. You must do this." Suddenly, she was standing right in front of me. She looked down at the sleeping babies with longing before she kissed their foreheads. "Keep them safe, little prince."
"Mum," I started, but she frowned and held up a scaled hand.
I watched as she leaned closer, her eyes sharp now. She breathed through her barely-there nose as she hovered over the newborns. She abruptly pulled away and looked down at her hands. Vaguely, she tilted her head to teh side, and I noted that her eyes were torn and confused while her face only reflected her internal struggle. Then, she was pulling off that very special ring and grabbing my right pointer finger. She slipped it on, and I could feel the band adjusting to my finger size, the weight of it far heavier than it should have been.
"I ... I can't tell which one will need that, but you'll find out soon enough," she murmured through her grimace and her brow furrowed. "I've no use for it where I am going." Suddenly, her voice had turned bright, almost manic.
"Mum, you do need that," I argued. "You'll die!"
She shook her head, her eyes slowly growing wild again. "Safe, little prince," she reiterated, her voice growing urgent once more.
I didn't like how my mother was acting, frankly it frightened me to see her in such a state and to hear her saying the things that she had. I tried to stop her as she turned to leave, but Laerwen grabbed my arm. She shook her head, motioning down to the children in my arms.
"She's my mum," I said through clenched teeth. "I can't just let her run off and die like that."
"Damien Casnes," Laerwen started, glancing back at the spot where my mother had disappeared. "I could not heal every part of her. She is unwell...."
I could tell that something was wrong without Laerwen telling me, and just seeing my mother the way she was caused all new fears for my family, and opened a wound inside of me.
"You have to honor her wishes," Laerwen pressed as I started forward once more. "This is not about you, or even her anymore, Damien Casnes. You have them to think about."
That stopped me in my tracks. I was not meant to raise any children, especially my own younger sisters. I frowned down at the sleeping infants before I looked upon the ring on my finger.
"Let's go back to the camp," Laerwen suggested.
"I ... don't even know what she wanted to name them," I said, dazed.
Laerwen stepped in front of me and lifted both of her hands so that she could rest her palms on my cheeks. "She did not name them because she did not think that she would see them again. She left that to you, trusting you to be up to the challenge."
"I'm not, though," I admitted.
Laerwen simply smiled and pulled away from me. She then gently pulled one of the infants from my arms and took my free hand. "You will rise to the challenge, you'll see."
- D
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