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Elantion
Elantion
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Elantion

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Kaj came out on the path, and spotted her pacing away, about to leave the village.

“Clarice, wait!”

But she heeded not his words. He jogged up to her and grabbed her by the arm. Her death glare shocked his fingers loose, and she quickly withdrew her arm.

“Do NOT do that again!” she warned him.

“I’m not letting you run off! I want answers.”

“Oh, you want answers?” she asked in resolute tones.

Kaj goggled at her. “Of course! Is that so strange?” he said, the words coming out harsh.

Clarice was looking away. There was a strange glint in her eyes; she seemed almost resigned. “Before you can have your answers, I must have mine,” she explained. She turned around and started walking again, but when Kaj again tried to stop her, she pointed a dagger at his throat.

“Don’t you try following me!” She didn’t need to add anything else.

Though nothing was clear to him, Kaj raised his hands in surrender, and she continued on her way, sheathing the dagger.

*

Kaj was still busy at the sanctuary, as a group of men-at-arms had come to the village in search of food and information. By the afternoon he was exhausted, so he went home, wrote in his diary, and rested his feet on the table while rocking in his chair. He reflected on his days with the nalnir, from their meeting on the banks of the river to their arrival in Fenan. His memory went to that night’s events, and it was then that he spotted it. He rose to his feet quickly, almost tripping in his haste. On the stool beside the door lay a carefully folded parchment next to a leather bag. He opened the letter:

Wear it, and don’t show it to anyone. Soon you will understand.

    —Clarice

Kaj opened the bag. Inside was a necklace with a medallion. The man took a close look at it. The stone was quite beautiful, a light purple color at the edges, and darker and deeper at the center—almost smoky, in fact. It was bright, multifaceted and rough, which probably meant it was a fragment collected who knows where, and embedded in gold as it stood. There was something magnetic about it. He let it dangle off his fingers for a moment before putting it on. Kaj looked at it, and it seemed to shine lightly. He held it a little longer in hand, then hid it under his shirt.

Meanwhile, on the path that ran alongside the White Creek, the evening’s shadows were lengthening, and the clouds that had Clarice on her travels seemed to be making way for the last faint ray of sunshine. The hooded figure moved rapidly down the road, headed for the small stretch of woods at the foot of the Slumbering Peaks. She needed to reach the tunnel entrance to the Rainvale as quickly as possible. She had been journeying alone for many years, far and wide throughout Draelia and sometimes even beyond. This had honed her senses, and she had learned to survive in even the most extreme circumstances. That was why she was still alive. Her thoughts strayed to Kaj for a moment. She absolutely had to look after his well-being, at least until she had dispelled all of her doubts.

Her train of thoughts was distracting her. She stopped, taking in the noises that surrounded her. She took a deep breath; there was something in the air. The trees were close now. She had to hurry and seek shelter for the night.

Clarice found an area at the foot of a steep hill. The place was sheltered by large trees and dense shrubbery, and the ground around was slippery, making it impossible to risk advancing further. She made a hole for the fire, thereby concealing the light of the flames. She curled up next to it, wrapped in her cloak, and slept for a few hours.

She was startled awake by a host of strange noises. Perfectly still, she listened. Some soil fell upon her, and she understood from the croaking that it was a pack of anurians, a species of froglike amphibians that wandered from one land to another in nomadic groupings, collecting what they found on both continents. They were rarely seen in that area; since the Invasion, they had been pushed to as far as Elelreel due to the devastation in Draelia. They were a gawky lot, with slimy and spotted skin, short legs and long arms. They could be on the fat side, and their colors could be vivid—the distinguishing characteristics of wiser, older anurians. These creatures were venomous and quite swift, which made them difficult to deal with groups of them.

While Clarice was deciding what to do, a small flame went out from among the embers, and a thin plume of smoke rose up. The elf’s eyes followed it, cursing its existence.

The anurian at the head of the pack caught a whiff of the scent, and spotted the smoke. Then it ordered the pack to halt. Before they could stick their heads out over the hill, Clarice dashed like lightning behind a large tree trunk.

The anurian leapt down to Clarice’s altitude, but with its poor sense of smell, it could not distinguish between Clarice’s odor and the overpowering smoke. It rummaged through the embers with its spear, and then, with a guttural cry, jumped onto the path, the caravan setting off once again.

The elf waited for them to go away, and watched to make sure none were straggling behind.

By Efabi! Danger averted, she thought.

Dawn was breaking, so she decided to resume pace. The last stretch in the woods was propitious. She found some bushes that still bore berries for the plundering. She popped some in her mouth intermittently as she continued forward. Her strides were light and fleet of foot, and she always tried to leave as few traces as possible by avoiding mud and overly soft ground. The sun had risen by the time she left the woods and spotted the hills that would lead her to Herle.

She arrived outside the village on the afternoon of the fourth day. She crossed the Murkwaters and followed them to the passage toward the Rainvale. She hadn’t the time to walk the entire path and reach the hidden entrance—she could already hear the group that was waiting for her arguing heatedly. She stopped and shook her head, mustering all of her patience before proceeding onwards. She wouldn’t stop by for long—just for long enough to exchange information. Then she would walk right back to Fenan.

Ten days passed. The sun had almost dipped behind the mountains. Kaj was returning home, convinced he would never see the nalnir again. He looked up, and in the distance he saw a limping figure. Curiosity spurred him to get a better look, and he realized it was Clarice. Kaj dashed to help her, and she fell into his arms.

“What happened to you, Clarice?” he asked worriedly.

“Now’s not the time. Take me to your house.”

Clarice let herself be guided by Kaj, who helped her lie upon the bed. The elf took off her cloak and began to unfasten the leather protector on her injured left thigh, taking off that leg of her trousers as well.

In the meantime, Kaj was preparing her some water and clean cloth, which he brought over. Her thigh was deeply lacerated.

“It was lalks, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. I’ve never seen a pack of lalks that organized,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. She was very pale-faced, and worn out, as she had lost a lot of blood.

“Now stay still; I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”

She nodded slightly, laying her head on the pillow. Kaj dipped a piece of cloth in the washbowl and set about washing away the blood, cleaning the wounds thoroughly. With each touch, he felt the elf’s muscles contract in pain.

“I’m almost finished,” he informed her. “I just have to go get some herbs from the hospital.”

“There’s no need. Just put some bandages on it. It’ll heal.”

“I’m the wound expert here.”

“Listen to me, Kaj,” she replied harshly.

“Okay, if you say it’ll heal… you should’ve put some galium leaves on it as soon as possible, you can find them all over the place here.”

“I was busy running away. I was being unwary, and now look at me…” she said, her words tinged with disappointment.

“But you’re alive!” he cried.

“So it’d seem…” she replied, without much enthusiasm.

Kaj finished wrapping her wound, and whipped up an infusion with a mixture of invigorating herbs. When he returned to the room, he saw she’d fallen asleep.

Good, he thought. She’ll at least regain her strength.

It was now evening. Kaj looked out the window, but the stars were not there. The white clouds shone, covering the whole sky from horizon to horizon. A gust of freezing air enveloped Kaj, who watched the first snowflakes of the season. He went outside, spread out his arms, and turned to face the sky. The snow’s caress felt nice, but a snowflake made it way past his cloak onto his neck, causing him to shiver. He quickly returned inside, and saw that Clarice was awake, leaning against the headboard.

“What’s so fascinating out there? You rushed out the door…” she asked, curious.

The man opened the shutters of the bedroom window. As soon as she saw the snow, Clarice swore in Elvish (which Kaj did not understand). She started rising out of bed, pushing herself onto her feet using her arms, and staggering a little. Kaj stepped in to support her.

“I’m fine!” she insisted firmly.

“Okay. I just wanted to help.”

The nalnir limped to the window. “I hoped it’d take at least a few more days. I didn’t need this,” she admitted, destroying Kaj’s glee completely.

She drank a sip of water and laid herself in bed again, dozing off forthwith. Kaj looked at her for a moment. Most in Clarice’s place would have already developed a high fever, accompanied by delirious dreams. It seemed very strange to him. He found himself handling the medallion she’d given him; it seemed to help him reflect. With his mind full of thoughts, he stretched out on a carpet, and before he realized it, he’d fallen asleep.

Outside the village, the nocturnal quiet was punctuated by the howls of lalks. That night, however, they could be heard barking in pain. A short figure packing metal was striding toward Fenan. His loud and heavy footsteps were accompanied by labored breathing. When the sun began to rise, he finally saw the outline of the houses in the distance. He stopped to catch his breath, and took the opportunity to drink some mead.

Kaj’s awakening was a rude one. He heard shouting in the streets. The speakers were very riled up, so he got up hastily and opened the door. Despite his cloak, he was struck by the cold air. A little further on, a dozen or so villagers were gathered to rail against something. He decided to try and figure out what was going on. Making his way through the crowd, he saw a dwarf brandishing an axe at the crowd with a menacing look. Insult them as they might, none had the courage to attack him.

“Please, stop this!” said Kaj.

“Oh!” exclaimed the dwarf. “Someone with a little common sense!”

“He threatens us with an axe and you defend him?” shouted a nalnir.

“Looks to me you’re threatening him with your dagger!” he shot back.

The elf in question sheathed the weapon and took a few steps back. The dwarf stared at him, and with a satisfied smirk, he swiftly put the axe on his shoulders, hand dangling over its handle. With a proud air, he approached Kaj.

“A friend of mine told me to come here,” he explained. “Oloice Calrek, at your service.” He held out his hand, and Kaj shook it firmly.

“Kaj.”

“Excellent! You’re the one I was looking for!”

Kaj nodded, smiling.

“Clarice is at my place.” He motioned for him to proceed. Before Kaj could even open the door for him, the dwarf was already by Clarice’s side.

“Oloice! That was quick!” said Clarice in amazement (and a touch of humor).

“Ha! You left me with a nice big drove of the beasties! I had to crack a surplus of the damn things’ heads! I see you’ve recovered. I’m glad.”

The elf nodded and turned to Kaj: “I have Oloice to thank for being here. Fortunately, he decided to accompany me…”

“Then you ought to keep an eye on her often, Master Oloice,” said Kaj, winking.

“Easier said than done!” he exclaimed.

The dwarf’s voice was very coarse and deep, reflecting his squat and heavyset figure. His leather armor was battered by time and battles. The metal plaques on his shoulders, arms, knees, and shins were beat up, and the woolen clothes that were visible were dirty and old. He wore a cloak with frayed hems, proof of some bad brushes with branches in the forest. He didn’t hesitate to let the cloak fall to the floor the second he entered the house.

“I have a feeling you won’t turn your nose up at some good elven booze,” said Kaj, knowing how he’d answer.

“By Tetir’s beard! A dwarf never turns down a drink!”

Oloice and Clarice took advantage of Kaj’s momentary absence to whisper something, stopping the moment Kaj returned. As the pair drank, the man regarded Oloice’s face. His ruddy beard caught Kaj’s eyes, as it was clearly tinged with turnip juice, bushy and scruffy, with a very well-fashioned braid at the center. He had many wrinkles and a few scars. His eyebrows were as thick and messy as his hair, and the same shade of light brown.

After a brief sniff, he downed his glass in one go. “Of course, a nice mug would’ve been better!” said the dwarf, slightly grouchy.

“Take it easy, Oloice; this stuff can put even a dwarf to bed!” said Clarice, amused.

“Alcohol’s the one thing that can best a dwarf! I’m sure you know that by now!” he replied proudly.

“Kaj, take a seat. Oloice and I have a lot to tell you.”

He did so, taking a stool and sitting at the foot of the bed. “Consider me all ears.”

“I’ll start telling you what Oloice told me yesterday,” began Clarice. “To make a long story short—after two years, the forced coexistence of the Clans in Tetirstad is becoming unsustainable, because of the other dwarven cities under the mountains still invaded by ‘narguts,’ as they’re called by dwarves. The internal struggles and reprisals have already begun. Moreover, it’s impossible to reach Vetmark; the mountain passes are blocked by snow, so we can’t contact the dwarves of the Summits until spring. They can’t help us. If we want to form an army, it remains of the essence to come to an agreement with Tetirstad.”

“Makes sense,” said Kaj. “Care to explain what a nargut is?”

“Narguts are creatures that pop up in many a dwarven legend,” said Oloice, happy to explain. “They’re said to have been feeble little things, originally. They had soft white skin that could burn up in the sunlight, and pupil-less yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. They inhabited the darkest depths of the dwarves’ lost word, the mythical Tesgaran, and were taken on the great divine chariot that transported the dwarves to Elantion after Tesgaran’s destruction. As was their nature, they crept ever deeper, and the elven magic of Elantion transformed them. Their skin became stone-like, and tough as leather, while their bodies turned crooked and their backs hunched. Once peaceful and timid, they became aggressive and devious.”

“Oloice’s brother is conducting excavations in the Rainvale to bring to light the entrance to one of the abandoned cities, which was buried under a large landslide. I met Oloice and some other dwarves at the entrance of an old tunnel used by miners that leads into the vale, so as to obtain information on the excavations and whatever else is happening in Tetirstad. Not only did I run into some anurians on the way there, I got attacked by lalks on the way back… and you know the rest.”

“I see,” said Kaj, nodding.

“I left in a hurry,” Clarice continued, “because I had to let Oloice know about encountering you, as I hope it’ll help us solve some of our problems.”

“Wait a sec, what do I have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know yet; I’m searching for the answer to that myself. What do you know about your family? Your parents?” asked Clarice.

“I was raised by the blacksmith of Lochbis. He adopted me when I was little more than a baby—”

“That explains a lot,” Clarice interrupted.

“It does?”

“It does,” said Clarice.

“Wait, does the medallion you left me have anything to do with it?” he asked, showing it to the two.

“By the gods!” she exclaimed in amazement, upon seeing the medallion’s faint glow.

“What?” said Kaj.

Oloice jumped onto his chair. “Then you really did find it!” he marveled at Clarice.

“Yes…” she said, incredulous.

“Anyone want to fill me in?” asked Kaj, annoyed.

“That medallion tells us I’m right. That the intel was correct,” replied the nalnir excitedly, pointing. “Your true family lineage has its origins elsewhere, but I don’t know much more…”

Kaj looked at the shining medallion at his neck, and then eyed her incredulously. “What are you talking about? You mean to say you might know my real family?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know!” she replied. “You need to keep it hidden until we’re someplace else. You’ll have to come with me to Nidath. Period.”

“Why should I? I could just take it off and toss it away!” said Kaj, confused.