3. A serenade goodbye

A serenade goodbye


  • _Tris blew out cool air, looking about as she exhaled a loud sigh to the new icy morning. The horse plodded along at a slow walk, whinnying and squealing loudly to others horses in a field. Slowly but surely she was coming to a village that she had known as home many years ago. She counted the summers since she had been here.
    She’d been about 16 summers or so, and now she was at least 23, but she had forgotten her age now. Nearly 7 years, she wondered how her human mothered looked now, her many little brothers and sisters too. Hopefully father was still in good health, or maybe he had passed away already. She gripped at the reins to clear the dominating thoughts from her head. She had to think of the better, not the worst now. It had been a few years since she has visited here, but it still felt like an age. The previous night hadn’t allowed her to get any peace, the ground too hard, and the water icy in the stream. Winter in her case wasn’t the best of times to be travelling, a woman alone and in the worst of seasons. She leaned forward into the saddle and kicked the horse in the ribs, to try and get some energy out of the lazy thing. She has become quite attached to this horse, Misty she’d called it, the blonde mane and strange tattoo on the left flank reminded her very much of the barmaid from Norwick. Tris grinned to herself on the many occasions she’s seen a drunken man or two trying to get a good sneak peek at Misty, and the loud slap that followed.
    Over the clear cast sky she could make out some wooden walls and barracks, and the start of some stone walls. Fire torches were still lit but now getting dim against the cold morning. She heard shouts as men awoke and peered at the brown hair woman.
    “State your name and Business!” She heard a man shout.
    “Tris Dy’ner and I seek to visit my family!” She called back, she chewed on her lip in hesitation as the man disappeared from view a moment. The groaning sound of cogs and wheels at work cleared the worry from her fairly quickly. Swiftly the wooden gates swung open and the horse plodded in. Though it was early morning a lot of people were already about doing their daily chores and farm work. She dismounted and led the horse on for a while until she reached the Inn. She leaned over a stable door and peered into the cool dark of the tiny stable. She saw a horse asleep soundly on it’s side, and something very strange, a tiny child curled up in the nook of the horses neck. Tris couldn’t help but smile at the tiny girl’s mass of brown curls all tangles up in her hands. Quietly she back away to find a stable hand, which she found immediately since she bumped straight into the poor fellow. He cursed in a mixture of common and elfish. Tris started to apologise and held out her hand to help him up.
    “Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She pleaded sorry. The stable hand just laughed and dusted him self off.
    “Nay problem lass, happens all time nay mind by such a pretty one at that!” He grinned. Tris grinned back in reply, a few months ago, red blush would’ve crept up her cheeks but times were different now.
    The stable hand thrust out his hand and tipped the straw hat he was wearing.
    “Name’s Neima!” He wore a permant smile that seemed almost a smirk. Tris put out her hand and shook it hard.
    “Tris.” She replied. He dropped his hand, his eyes then went past Tris to look at her horse. He took a closer step and seemed to be doing a thorough inspection. Tris stood there rather confused as the stable hand kept on tapping the horse’s hoofs, opening the mouth and looking inside. After a couple of minutes Tris plucked up some courage.
    “Is… there something the matter with my horse?” She asked, lofting a brow.
    “Nah this horse is fit as can be, just make in’ sure that’s all!” He replied with his back to Tris. He patted the horses coat and turned to face her.
    “How long ya staying then Miss Tris?” He crosses his arms and his head appeared to be calculating the amount of money.
    “I’m not very sure, a few days maybe..” She trailed off.
    “That’ll be about 20 gold for 4 days.” He said quickly, Tris nodded and fumbled in a pouch on her belt, counting out some coins then tipping them in his hand.
    “Thanks Miss!” Neima tipped his hat again then shot off with the horse in tow. Tris turned around and tried hard to remember where the inn was and where her old house was. A smell of fresh cooking pork drifted through the air and made her mouth water. Something was triggered, a faint feeling of guilt, then it hit her, the day she’d try to cheat the butchers son of a leg of pig for dinner. She grimaced at the memory then smiled to her-self, at lest this memory had also brought back the location of her old home. She started at a quick pace and soon her feet began to walk the old path again. Soon enough she came up to a house that made her gut yearn to be home again. The walls were freshly white washed and the windows clean and gleaming. Mother had always been a proud woman of her house and presentation. Calling upon all the courage her arm could muster she raised her arm and knocked on the heavy oak door. In an instance the door swung open and a kind voice answered.
    “Something I can do for you young lady or do you need your clothes fixing?” A middle aged woman looked up to Tris through tiny lenses.
    “M-mother…” Tris spoke softly, almost a whisper. “I’ve come back home.”
    “T-tris?!” The woman stuttered her hand trembled at the door; suddenly she turned around and bellowed into the house.
    “Tris has returned!!” A thunder storm of feet clattered through the house and all landed short of the door. 4 pair’s of eyes stared at Tris. The oldest, one being about 17, jumped at Tris and wrapped her arms around Tris's waist and hugged her hard.
    “I’ve missed you!” The girl whined. Tris laughed and cried all at the same time, hugging all her family and kissing each twice on the forehead and cheeks. They all bustled her in and soon Tris was sitting down at the table holding a cup of warm ale in her hands as her family fired endless questions at her, where had she been, what had she seen, why had she come back and did she find a love or not?
    It was well into the day when the mother hassled the other children away to their chores. She smiled warmly and gently to tris as she then reached for another cup of hot ale and eased her self into the chair.
    “Now Tris, tell me why you have returned from where ever, I can tell it is something, you weren’t home sick.” She asked. Tris lowered her head and silent tears fell into her ale, slowly she raised her head to meet her mother’s patient eyes.
    “I…I fell in love with some, and we couldn't be together in the end, he and Narfell…reminded me to much of the people I’ve met and lost, I couldn't stand to be around there anymore, feeling sorry for myself and weeping in my self-pity. It was time to move on from him and Narfell, so home was the next place in my heart.” She let all it pour out, her adventures in Narfell, her loves gained and lost, the friend she’s left behind, the horrors she’d seen and felt. Her mother held her hand tight and shared all her anguish and emotions.
    “It is all in the past now, there is nothing you can do about it now, learn from it and move on, you still have years ahead of you, live and be happy, because you are truly home now, your family and old friends are here for you.” Her mother said with legend wisdom. Tris nodded and dried her tears, indeed it was all in the past now, but all what had happened all the people she hand known where part of her heart now, and nothing could take that away. Now she was truly home.

    “Good bye Zoma, Belade, Elor, Ellie, Nate, Miranda, Bow… thank you all for making it a life time’s experience when I was here, and I wish you all the best in your lives.” Tris said in a silent prayer. They were gone now, and she was here. Nothing could change the friendships and loves she’d shared with them. Nothing but time and death it self._


  • This is my first proper journal entry since we have parted ways with Leoorin and Belgeon, for which I am glad, at least I can write in some peace. Adotiln is a kind man, but in his presence most of the time, it does become very tiring. He means well but the way Tyr is meant to ‘guide’ him, it sounds like he doesn’t have much freedom. It is admirable what he does though he seems tied to his faith more I could deal being with.
    But again I’ve never truly felt the urge to follow a god that closely, I know Selune watches over me but she would not want me to give up my freedom as a paladin would.
    We are now in Arable, and it is a beautiful city, full of life and humming with people. And not to mind the odd pick pocket!
    Adotiln has insisted that I stay at the temple of Tyr for a while but I would feel more comfortable at the Shrine of Selune. I am still with out my voice, and I can’t always carry a ink and paper with me; so Adotiln has helped me to come up with a few signs. Just simple words but I am getting more fluent at using them with him.
    (below are a few simple outlines of hand signals, like water, food, yes, no, please, thank you, how are you? )
    Often I am left with out anything to do, and one of the monks sometimes throws a broom and other things at me, in a simple title, I am the cleaning woman. It is boring and I feel somewhat angered I am left to do this silly work. At least, it is something to go but it is horrible when I have to scrub the steps. But, I do get paid for this work, and soon I should be able to a passage on a boat or carriage back to my home.
    I have written to mother, and I pray she gets the letter in good time and that she isn’t mourning my supposed death.
    (There are a few blotches of ink, like someone has dropped the quill)
    Adotiln has just told me of something very interesting, a theory perhaps. He thinks that I have lost my voice to Shar, when I was half way to death, I was in a void, and to leave there something had to be sacrificed, and my voice was the one thing to go. At times it is frustrating not being able to get a point across, but I was no bard who cherished a good singing voice, my voice wasn’t my lively hood so I don’t feel cheated.
    Just having been that close to Shar does still scare me deeply, having liked the emptiness of my mind, I understand how others feel against a Sharren now, I’d never really been that concerned about one of them, but now I am. I guess it must just be another step into my faith but I think I am ready for some direction in my life now, so I will embrace the opportunities she will give to me.


  • _Adotiln had been walking by the stream for a little while now, Tris’s absence a little too long for his concern. Letting out a sigh he fiddled with his pendant of Tyr, Tris was an unusual woman, she was kind and warm heated, yet something lingered under those green eyes of hers and she seemed to be closed up because of something. Hopefully giving her a journal, would give an insight. She would be a good mother; she portrayed a sense of maternal instinct. Though she was a useful cook and was happy to help out with errands like getting firewood and washing some of the clothes, but where were her other skills? He rubbed his head and lent against a tree.
    If he couldn’t find a useful reason for having her about, the next temple he came too, they would demand that she not carry on with him. They would maybe like her to stay and be endless questioned and quizzed until they understood what happened. Then goodness knows what. She was defiantly a mystery.

    Tris kept on stamping loudly, on twigs to warn Adotiln she as coming. She didn’t want to think what would happen if she stumbled across him if he was bathing….
    She licked her lips and formed a ‘o’ shape on her lips, then tried to blow. No sound. She’d been practicing whistling, there was some potential for communication, other than that: a clap or yes, two claps for no. It was tiresome and boring after so long. She started to clap her hands loudly and in a fast beat. It chased away the availing darkness and made her feel more comfortable.

    Adotiln could hear the clapping not far from him now; he had been following it for a couple of minutes. The moon was now high and the forest covered in silvery gentle light. He knew that Tris followed Selune; he looked up at the evening sky and spotted the moon’s crescent peeking out from behind a stray cloud.

    He though of how someone could put their hopes into the shiny orb that always rose at night time. He also though of Shar, Selune’s evil twin the goddess whom believed that all should be in emptiness and blackness.
    It seemed that Tris had been in Shar’s clutches when she was first washed up on the river side. She managed to describe what happened to her, though he felt guilty about reading her journal to find out what. A day later the page had gone missing. He scolded himself for intentionally reading through someone’s personally journal, and now he felt angered at the fact Tris probably wouldn’t write anything serious until they reached the capital.

    The clapping was getting much louder now and he was sure he could see her pale blue dress between the branches. A moment later he tripped over a root and landed flat on his face. Spitting out the delightful taste of dirt and leaves he stood up as he cursed about Bane. Tris was standing there, bent over her self looking like she was going to throw up. Adotiln knew she was merely laughing.

    Gathering himself, he smiled back in return and ventured father into the small opening.
    “Forgive me for stumbling upon you milady, but I was looking for you.” He said. Tris nodded in return. “I heard your clapping not far; it guided me to you, if that was what you wanted.”
    Tris nodded again, and smiled this time, she wished she could speak, come out with some witty come back, but alas, it wasn’t to be.
    She gestured, that she took the horse to the river and then for a ride. Adotiln nodded and understood a good part of it.
    “Please, just be careful next time, these lands are riddled with Orcs and raiders, I bade you should be careful.”
    She clapped once for yes. Adotiln let out a small laugh at this notion.
    “I think we need to find a new means of communication milady.”
    Tris nodded eagerly at this, and gave an emphasized tired look.
    “Tis late and I worry for the evening meal…”

    Tris’s eyes suddenly shot open wide. Of course that silly elf, she’s been hovering around the broth for most of the evening now! It’d gone past her! Picking up the hem of her skirt Tris shot off in the direction off the camp, running quickly and dodging the undergrowth. Adotiln’s armour clanked in the background as they both raced back.
    Tris burst back into the camp, only to see the cooking pot on it’s side, with Leoorin and Belgeon sprawled out, both contently asleep and traces of the tell tale broth dotted on their mucky faces.

    Adotiln arrived shortly afterwards, quite out of breath was mildly surprised to see the two snoring contently. Tris was starting to tidy up, she had set the pot up right and was wiping it down with a scrap of leather. She set it back up then buried into her dress and with drew the journal, found the pen and ink and scribbled a quick note. She showed it to Adotiln.

    I thought the herb I found earlier was rosemary I think it was a sleeping plant!

    Adotiln laughed again, and then wrinkled his brow.
    “Can you show me the plant?” He asked. Tris dug in her pack and pulled out a small bunch of green leaves. Adotiln inspected it and sniffed it lightly.
    “It is nothing to worry about, you merely over used it.” He said, tossing the plant into to the fire.
    Tris st!arted to scribble down another note.

    At least we will have a peaceful night!

    She smirked at the sight of the snoring elf. Adotiln gave a smile and sat down opposite her. Tris rooted in the main pack for something to eat, she found only some dried meat and some crusty bread. She sighed, it wasn’t much but they hoped to be by at the capital by afternoon, so a little hunger wouldn’t hurt.
    They shared a the boring but filling meal and sat in good silence for a while, until their eyes grew heavy and they retired to sleep, it was a sound peaceful night for the first time in a while._


  • _Fortunately the river was shallow and had little current, otherwise this would’ve sparked off her fear, but only a minor thumping in the chest gave any signs she was distressed. Grumbling in her head she waded out of the water and plonked her self down by the bank, wringing out her dress she shot the horse an annoyed look. The horse smarmy as ever, snorted and kicked water about. That creature was too damn smart for its own good. Sighing she fumbled for her journal and hoped it wasn’t to wet. Entirely drenched, it wouldn’t be a good idea walking back into camp as she was. Peeling away the heavy over dress she spread it out to dry in the sun. The undercoat was lighter and not so cumbersome. After a little while her teeth started to chatter a low wind swept in, grumbling some more she piled up some moss and leaves and hoped to start a fire. Hitting some rocks only made a low noise and twirling the stick only made her arms more tired.

    She picked up her journal and spread out the pages, hoping it would dry soon enough; the ink was now blurred in a corner. The horse plodded out of the river and nudged her head with his muzzle, then shook all of the stray water off. She shook her wet hair back at the horse, to make a point. All she got for a reply was the horse chewing on her hair!
    “Hey stop that!” She chided to the animal, pulling her hair from his mouth. “I’m guessing you want a ride as well, to dry you off?”
    She was simply mouthing all this, but it made her feel better that someone wasn’t confused at her mouth opening and closing pointlessly. Pulling her still wet over dress on she mounted her horse and guided him to an open area. Digging her feet in hard they sprinted off at a fast gallop. As the wind whipped through her hair and dried her clothes, an old song rhyme her mother used to sing to her echoed in her ears. Her adoptive mother’s voice was soothing and sweet.

    “Canter in the winds little one,
    Ride them fast and well,
    Sleep soundly tonight little one,
    Run with the wild horses,
    Sleep soundly tonight little one.
    To the end of the word it seems,
    And I’ll meet you there, in the corner of the earth
    I’ll see you there, in morns light
    Little one, so sleep.”

    The feel of the wind was exhilarating, the feel of it whipping through her hair, she could feel the way her horses feet clawed at the earth to move faster. The animal’s ears were straight forward, a sign that it was pleased to be out galloping and not confined to small controlled steps. Tris wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, lowing her body so the wind didn’t race against her. Leaning forward and digging her feet in more the horse galloped on faster. Faster and faster, the world became a blur, the whistle of the wind hard to hear now, her eyes watering. Slowly, the horse’s breath became shallow and uncontrolled, it leered to a stop and Tris slide off, her cheeks red and her arms sore from having to cling on for so long. Though the poor creature was now tired, it was by all means dry, and so was Tris. She was sensitive to the horse’s mood and worried if it could make the way back. Peering in the distance, she saw a faint line of smoke coming from the patch of green that was the forest. She grinned; they had come a long way in such a short time.
    She rubbed the horse along the neck and patted it lovingly, speaking to it that it would be rewarded with sweet apples if it came back. She started to lead it on; it followed like a subdued puppy, worn out but still aware of things.
    They walked through rough, untouched country side. Much like the Nars pass, sweet and bitters memories filled her as the two walked on. A time when she and a elf named Gildor –was it? - had walked past the Eastlanders, singing loudly how they love Norwick and how they were loyal citizens from there, not the camp. A wide smile spread across her lips, she remembered the echo’s of laughter of men and woman.
    There had been darker times in that place, but the memories were dulled and faded somehow, and it pleased Tris, something less to dwell upon. The evening air cool and sweet, she breathed in deeply, it was a warm feeling; being alone with her thoughts and at peace with most of them.
    They walked on a while longer until it suddenly seemed they were back at the edge of the woods. Listening for a fire crackling, or the sounds of laughter she hoped to follow the sounds to the camp. She couldn’t hear anything, then the horse –mustering some energy- raised his head high and nickered very loudly. A another horse replied not far away. Feeling relived she led her horse the last stretch back. She entered the camp, noticing that Leoorin was hovering near the cook pot, licking her lips every so often, her face painted with the expression of dreaming about the food. Nobody seemed to have missed her presence; hopefully Adotiln wouldn’t have been worrying to much. He seemed very reluctant to let Tris out of the camp so often, just in case she might be feeling suicidal and fling her self into another river.

    She tied the horse to a tree and heaved a skin of water for it, the animal dropped it’s head right into the sack and nearly emptied it.
    “Been running the horse wacky again half blood?” The elf piped up. Tris nodded her head a little, never any point in trying to lie to the elf, Leoorin could figure it out easily.
    “Good on ya! Ah’ve been dying to do it myself sometime. Just a shame Adotiln went looking for you down by the river…” she trailed off. Tris shook her head annoyed, patting the horse on the neck and disappeared into the woods again, heading for the river.
    Leoorin checked Tris was well out of ear and eyes shot, then grabbing her wooden spoon she dug it into the thick broth and ate it quickly. Belgeon appeared out of the bushes and grinned, and joined the elf on her feasting. For once they agreed on something._


  • _" It’s been a few days pleasant travel so far, Adotiln had given me this journal to voice my thoughts, since that trip into the river has very much taken anyway of communication. The group I’m travelling with, don’t get on, and makes me wonder how in the heavens they came up with the idea of travelling together, just like giving a hobgoblin a bath, it can’t be done."

    Tris looked up from her pages a moment, and gazed at the fire, chewing at feathers tip. She looked out of the corner of her eyes and noticed the elf was casually watching her. Smiling to her self she added the next passage. No doubt the elf would be catching up on her late night reading after Tris had gone to sleep.

    "The elf, Leoorin, I’ve found, is very talented with the bow, not mention at teasing the abyss out of Belgeon! It is fun to watch the amazing feats she can come up with to annoy the man. Yesterday she added ground up mushroom to his beer…and the poor oaf was stuck at the latrine for a few hours! But I’ve found a few bugs and such in my dinner as well. Adotiln doesn’t get a break either, any second he has his back turned, Leoorin puffs out her chest and mimics him ever so well! "

    She paused again; hopefully this would keep the elf happy for a while, maybe until she could set up a trap or something, but guessing this wild elf, she could brake through it in a sleep walk in the fog. Setting the pen down, Tris felt the intention of sharing her thoughts with a book of paper not so good, since anyone can pick it up and read it. Maybe it would be better if she just pretended to ramble on about something Leoorin would get bored, yet again if she put anything of interest, the elf would be back for more. She thought it best to leave it for now and really think about what she was going to be writing.

    Though it had only been a few days with out her speech, she felt that she had adjusted quite well, just the minor problem of asking for something or offering to do a job for anyone. Adotiln and Belgeon, being men by nature were pleased that another woman was willing to do the cooking. It was only ever porridge in the morning, cold meat and bread for lunch but in the evening it varied from soup, deer on the spit, and broths. Everyone seemed to be in better health since Tris’s cooking skills had joined them. The fire was crackling and the pot was bubbling with rabbit stew and herbs. It wouldn’t be ready for a while though, she looked about for something to do. Not much.
    Adotiln was kneeling, mumbling a prayer; he’d been there for about 2 hours now, which seemed long for just thanking Tyr for a good days travel. Or maybe he was asking he be give some more patience for Leoorin.
    Belgeon was hunched over his great axe, sharpening it and polishing it, though his hand snaked out every so often to grab the bottle of ale near him and taking a swig, Leoorin up in her tree, up to no good.

    Tris tided away her journal, and slipped it into her dress pocket, she guessed the horses may need watering and she was quite thirsty herself. Un-tethering her horse from a near by tree she gesture to Leoorin what she was planning to do. Leoorin merely raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Tris knew the elf put on a stupid face when she wanted to say something. Letting out a sigh she let her horse out of the place. Using her ears she followed the sound of lapping water.
    It wasn’t long before a small brook was in sight, her horse trotted the final stretch, dragging Tris with her.
    She managed to untangle her hand from the bridle as the horse cantered full speed for the river, sending a cool spray of water everywhere. Wiping the water from her face she couldn’t help but smile at the animals playfulness. Turning her back for a moment however only got her nipped in the thigh and the horse pulling her towards the river. Failing to grab something, Tris soon found she had gotten her wash earlier then intended._


  • _Adotiln stretched out his arms as he awoke, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes realised that he had fallen asleep in his amour again. He cursed soundly and preceded to un-strap the tiny leather belts. Slowly the pieces fell away onto his lap and as the breast piece came away he let out a pleased sigh. Stacking them to his left he lay back on the bedroll, he right hand stretched out to find his water flask, with it only to met soft skin. Looking over quickly he saw the woman had moved to his right. She seemed to be asleep rather soundly. Gently tapping her on the shoulder, she didn’t stir. Whispering in her ear did nothing either, rather perplexed he looked for a bruise on her head, in-case she had fallen on something. No bruise, then why wouldn’t she stir? He sensed her spirit was intact and not where it was. The elf woman wasn’t about either, maybe on her morning rounds. Then he guessed the elf had been playing with his scrolls again! He dived into his pack and found two sleeping and a strength one missing. With a wearily sigh he lay back down on the bedroll and looked up at the sky.
    It was too late to be sleeping again, they would have to be off in a while. Sitting up he inched his way over to the fire, he piled up the wood and waited for the fire to start crackling. It burned brightly after a while, Adotiln set up the small cooking pot tipping in wheat and oats with water. It was plain and boring but it was enough for travelling. Hopefully in the next few days they should reach the capital, he wondered what would happen to the group afterwards. Well Belgeon would surely disappear to the nearest whorehouse, which Adotiln hoped would be the last time they would meet. The elf woman, she had family outside the city –so she had said- he guessed that she would meet up with them and go which ever way she wanted to. Himself he was visiting mainly the temples of Tyr and to learn new things. He wanted adventure though the temple’s will was hard on him; they finally let him out from his home and see the world, so long as he spread the word of Tyr. What would happen to the woman sleeping soundly near to him?
    A low grunting noise pulled Adotiln from his thoughts, Belgeon was snoring contently under a pile of leave and twigs, doubtless the elf had seen to his drinking during the night. As the pot bubbled he started his morning prays.

    The elf walked back into camp a little while later, with four horses following her, she grinned to herself at how easily they had gone under her control. The horses were even complete with saddles and bridles. She smelt the porridge in the pot a long distance away; she had to admit that the paladin could cook a good meal, one of the benefits of travelling with him. She tied the horses up on some fallen logs and crept back into camp.
    The half breed was still out cold, the paladin hunched over in pray and the drunken fool was still under his pile of leaves and dirt. It would be fun watching him wake up with dirt in his armpits.
    She started to pack up her bedroll and clear up her few belongings. Adotiln looked over his shoulder and gave a somewhat forced smile.
    “Good morning Milady.” He said his voice formal and polite. The elf nodded and sank down on her hunches, ready to get her meal while it was hot. Adotiln spooned out the stuff into a few bowls and passed it to the elf, which started to gorge her self very quickly. He threw a bowl near by the drunken fool, if the drunk wanted a hot meal, he had better wake up soon.
    “Milady, did you use any of my scrolls by chance?” He asked with a causal tone as he stuck his spoon into his meal and pushed it into his mouth. The elf looked up a moment then shrugged.
    “I might have found some lying about, the drunk was hitting his head on a tree, and it was the only way to make him shut up.” She said with a shady smile. “The woman looked tired so I cast a spell to help her sleep.”
    Adotiln nodded, not believing very much of it well so long as they were sleeping and not cast into the abyss, it was alright.

    "Did she say anything?" Adotiln said through mouthfulls of proddige and sips of water.
    "Nah, she can't seem to speak, a mute by the looks of things. I thought she was mad the way she was waving her arms about!" The elf muttered in reply
    "She doesn;t appear to be awaking soon, and we must not tarry any further!" Aodtiln urged, he stood up tossing the dirty bowl to the side and maintaining an air of a over worked blacksmith. They both tiyed up quickly and sat about waiting for the other two to awaken. Nothing.
    The elf sighed and blew some hair out of her face, which just simply fell back in place and she started to entire show again.
    "I do not think it was a mere sleeping spell you put on the others." Aodtlin commented. "A charm spell perhaps?"
    The elf simply grinned and shrugged, the swiftly stood up and ilded over to the woman's side.
    “Wake up half blood!” The elf shrieked as she waved her arms. The woman jerked awake at the noise, she opened and closed her mouth in a fit of cursing at the elf.
    The elf laughed and jumped away as the woman stood up and shook her fist at the elf, putting her palm to her forehead she sighed and clenched her hand. Forcing herself to calm down.
    Adotiln was taken completely by surprise at the woman’s waking, though he was pleased she was finally awake and well.
    “Easy there milady, please forgive me for you rude awakening.” Adotiln finally found his voice. The woman stopped gesturing and turned her attention to him. The elf rolled her eyes as her entertainment was taken from her.
    “Please, what is your name?” he asked kindly. She tried to say her name but looked down at the ground shaking her head slowly.
    “Can you not speak milady?” He asked gently, she nodded then let out a sigh, pushing a hand through the messy hair. Suddenly a wooden comb flew out of no-where and hit her right on the forehead. The elf sat away from the two, whistling innocently. Adotiln reached over for his pack and withdrew some tatty paper with a quill and a pot of ink. The woman fingered the comb and kept it at hand.
    “If you can write milady, please go ahead.” He pushed the things into of the woman.
    She picked up the quill then dipped it into the ink and started to write out some details in a tight, neat writing.
    My name is Tris Dy’ner, thank you for bringing me here, I am no mute I think I lost my voice when I nearly died, maybe at a price. Where am I right now?
    Adotiln read it quickly, and then smiled to the woman.
    “We are about 5 days travel to the capital of Comyr milady”
    Tris just looked gob smacked, her eyes opened wider as she kept on pushing her hand through her hair in a stressed way. Grabbing the quill again she voiced her self on the paper.
    Where did you find me?
    “We found you washed up near the river milady, not far from here.” He answered.
    Forgive my troubles, I came from a village miles from here, I don’t know how I lived that long.
    “Nor do I milady” Adotiln smiled a little “But you are well now.”
    Tris nodded, and then scribbled down.
    What is your name?
    Adotiln got up and bowed formally. “I am Sir Adotiln, sever of Tyr”
    Tris nodded, then suddenly seemed aware of the fact she was wearing dirty mucky clothes, which already smelt badly.
    Will there be a way I might be able to get my voice back?
    Adotiln shrugged, and then spoke calmly. “I know not what truly ails you, but in time it may return.”
    He felt that there was no more need for words now, he stood up and passed Tris the warm bowl of wheat and oats. Tris ate it quietly, feeling very much a stranger in this place. She had to get home, but how? With no money, no horse no belongings; it would be a tough journey. She glanced over to the two getting ready and packing up the camp, and then looked at the drunk sleeping under a pile of twigs and dirt.
    He snuffled in his sleep, then yawned and tried to sit up, the fact the elf had stuffed leaves and dirt caused him to leap up scratching himself and cursing in a mixture of common and drunken slurred words.
    Tris fell back laughing at the way the man was leaping about and yelling to get the dirt out of his shirt and armpits. She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes, the elf was laughing too, but from the safety of a tree. Tris realized her mistake the sobered up man turned and looked at her.
    “You again! Quit yer laughing!” He shrieked at Tris. She stood up and just met his half maddened gaze.
    He seemed to snort like a bull and scrape his foot along the floor, he set off at a charge, aiming squarely for Tris’s gut. She readied her bodyweight, then at the last moment gracefully jumped to the side and missed the stampeding man by a hairs width. The elf cheered and clapped at the man raging about, hoping to encourage him on.
    Tris shot the elf an annoyed look as she dodged the fool again. Luckily Adotiln interjected at the last moment.

    “Calm they self!” He spoke sharply. The drunken man seemed to hit back home, he muttered rude stuff about the elf. Tris let out a relieved sigh, had she carried on dodging her sore muscles would’ve seized up. Adotiln let go of the man whom quickly huffed about as he stumbled to his pack.
    “Ah swear that elf is goanna pay ‘with her blood some day!” The drunk muttered, dragging his feet back over to his bed roll he too started to pack up his items. Tris sat there, feeling pretty much ignored. Picking up the wooden comb she started to rake at the mess of hair sprouting from her head. It took at least 5 minutes to get the tangles out, and about 10 to get her the rest of it in order. Looking down at the wooden come she grinned at the amount of hair in it, enough to make a wig and a beard.
    Her ears perked up when she head some loud snorts and whining noises, she relaxed when she realised that they were horses.
    Adotiln however didn’t look too pleased, turning towards the elf he opened his mouth to protest.
    “I know what your thinking but they were just wandering around…..” The elf cut him off, Adotiln closed his mouth and saw that it was best they didn’t start a heated argument this early in the morning.
    “Aye and even with saddles and full gear!” Belgeon bellowed. Running up to one of them he rooted in the saddle bag and found a bottle of Moonshine. Grinning happily he stuffed it into his pack and swung his leg over the horse and got comfortable. The elf jumped up easily onto one of the other horses and seemed quite proud of her self. Adotiln finished packing and walked over to Tris and held out his hand. Tris took his hand and he pulled her up, then silently fastened a cloak around her shoulders. He gave a warm smile, then walked over to the final horse and mouted it. The animal looked like a strong warhorse, able to carry lots of metal and heavy rider. Tris mounted the remaining horse which was a fine slim animal, somehow the elf had been able to steal some horses which were perfectly suited for the rider.
    They troted out of the place quickly and silently, hoping to a get a good days travel before it was to dark, Tris felt contented to look about at the wildlife and all of the trees. Her part elevn self felt comfortable here,
    though she didn;t mind where ever she lived, it was always welcoming to feel the whisper of the forest breeze or the tickle of pine cones underfoot.
    They stopped near midday to water the horses and eat a quick ration of bread and dry meat. Belgeon now complained that they had to share the food with another person. The elf in reply stole most of his and cosumed it in a tree with the Belgeon jumping and demanding that the elf give it back. Tris manged to keep her giggles contained this time as the mardy fool sat back down this time with a empty rumbling stomach. Again they were off quickly, hardly a few words spoken aside from Belgeon complaining about how the meat now had given the elf extra engery to be playing tricks. Tris could hear Adotlin letting out annoyed sighs and the clanking of his amour as he shook his head in dismay.
    It was going to be a long day's travel…_


  • _Tris was now swimming in the thick black glop, it was hard to see and it seemed to make her heavy with depression or something. She felt she’d been here before, that she’d gone through here before death. When this thought hit her, she started to struggle, trying to swim for the surface. Her hands started to push at the hard layer, but it was like drowning in a swap and stuck under a layer of thick ice.
    No she didn’t want to die, yet something in the depths stirred, she felt something wrap it self around her legs and slowly and ever surely pull her under into the dark.
    There was little point in struggling now. She saw a face above her, a hard haunting expression. It was Zoma! Then another face appeared…. Elor! More and more faces all came into view, Belade, Ellie, Nate, and Bow, others she didn’t know as well. They all shared the same hard determined expressions, all mouthing the same thing.
    “Giving up is for the weak.!” It was chanted over and over.
    She wanted to shut them up, their voices ringing around her head.
    “I AM NOT WEAK!” She screamed, in a quick motion she hit hard on the surface above her and broke through. Pulling her self out of the thick claws of death she started at a run, towards where the light was forming again.
    She threw her self into it and heard the haunting voices no more.

    He opened his eyes, to be meeting the gaze of the smarmy third man.
    “Ah see ye finally woke up sir sleeping beauty!” Belgeon grinned; the paladin wearily mopped his sweaty brow and sat up, breathing quite evenly to his surprise. Belgeon looked over to the body of the woman. She didn’t seem to be stirring herself, Belgeon strode over and knelt next to the woman, tipping her chin to the side so he could get a good view of her face.
    “Do not touch her Belgeon!” The paladin growled, he tried to stand up but half fell down, half stooped as his sore muscles screamed in agony. Belgeon smirked and stroked the woman’s cheek.
    “I’m sure a kiss will wake the fair maiden from her slumber.” He mimicked in the tone of the Paladin, he leant closer and pressed his lips closer to the woman’s. Before he could get in close for the kiss, he felt a blade pressed lightly against his neck. The elf stared down at him with hard iron eyes.
    “I side with Adotiln, don’t even touch the woman, despite she is a half breed, and she is still a vulnerable woman! Leave now!” She spat at Belgeon, he scrambled up and ran from the small camp like a dog with it's tail between it's legs. She turned to Adotiln and noticed he looked sick.
    “You look worn out, you must rest, and we can delay a further day if you need it.” She said as she knelt beside him.
    “I am fine, I need not your concern; just pass me the potion near your foot if you will milady.” He whispered hoarsely.

    The elf kicked the bottle to his hand and quickly left the small camp. He downed the contents of the bottle and felt a tingling effect, immediately the soreness was numbed. He managed to stand up and stumble his way next to the out cold woman. He put his ear close to her slightly open mouth, hoping to hear a breath. It was there, just barely audible. But it was there and she was gradually coming back to the world of the living. Smiling to himself , he was pleased that his faith had been able to bring them both back safely. He turned around and collapsed down next to the woman, though the potion was healing, it did nothing for his tiredness. He sunk into the realms of sleep.

    Tris awoke with a start, she sat up and stared down at her own hands, where was she, why wasn’t she in the river? She stumbled up and felt her sore muscles starting to work. She doubled over in pain she felt her stomach about to heave, running blindly from the small encampment; she dodged through the trees to find the river. She knelt at the side and heaved up the contents of her stomach into the water. The foul acids and previous meal floated away quickly. Wiping her mouth, she scooped up some fresh water and rinsed out her mouth.

    Something in the waters surface caught her attention, her reflection. Though when she looked into the water she was washed over with memories of her drowning, her body hitting the rocks and being swept away, she sobbed and crawled away from the river. Her family must be worried. What if it had been so long she had been dead, times had changed? She curled up into a tight ball and sobbed her worries into, tears, which flowed away into the ground.
    The crying cleared her mind somehow, getting it off her chest. She knew now, that she had a fear of water; just the thought of a deep river was enough to make her shiver and close her eyes. Perhaps she could get over it….
    Tris shakily got up and wiped her eyes, holding firmly to a tree she stared back at the river for a second and proceeded to walk back to where she came from. Who ever had saved her needed her thanks. Her head was bent low as she tried to remember which way she had come from. She walked for a while until she bumped into something; she looked up to only be meeting a tall gruff man’s chest. He looked strong and very intimidating.

    “Ah? what ‘ave we ‘ere?” His breath was laced with ale and wine. Tris took a quick step back, slouching a little which gave away her scared demure. She tried to answer, but found to voice in her throat.
    “Ah know, ye be the washed up dryad!” He grinned a lopsided smile, curved at the corners, showing some of his intentions. Tris back further away, her eyes shining a confused cornered look that a frightened animal would show. The drunk pushed out a hand and tired to stroke her cheek, Tris took a step to the side which caused him to fall forward slightly. “And ye be a feisty one!”
    Veering around he lunged forward and shot his arm out and took firm hold of Tris’s arm, she started to scream and kick to get away.

    “Nay need to scream lassie, Ah won’t harm ya!” he chuckled. In a fumbled motion he had twirled Tris around and she was now slung over his shoulder. Kicking some more only seemed to make the bastard walk slower. Looking for something to distract him with she saw an up coming branch and took firm hold. It startled him as Tris slid from his grip and she climbed into the tree, hiding like a cat from the drunk, she remained quiet. The man looked dumfound as to where the pretty dryad had gone. He looked up and saw Tris perching there, looking down at him with careful eyes.
    “Aye there the pesky little beauty!” he hollered at the woods around him, and then setting off at a fast pace he shoulder barged the trees trunk. It shook but no Tris fell down.
    Getting angrier rather then confused now Tris cursed at him.
    “Go find another!” She gestured wildly, though no voice escaped her lips. Seeing this she instead pulled a rude sign, the drunk saw and quickly became angry.
    “Aye ye want that way eh?” He roared. “Ah was goanna be gentle but no need for whore like….” His rebuts were short lived as he fell down on the ground snoring contently, the elf standing behind him with a scroll still held up. Packing the paper away she kicked the drunken man in the leg and babbled elven at him. Pulling out another scroll she read quickly and muscles suddenly bulged out from under her skin. Grunting she began to pull the man by the ankles away from the tree and onto a path. Then she looked up at Tris.
    “Woke up half the forest lusting after you” She yelled back at Tris. “Least you can do is help me!”
    Tris understood this, but couldn’t reply. Guessing it was safe enough she climbed down from the tree, giving the elf a sort of thankful smile. Then taking firm hold of the man’s other ankle they both heaved him onto the path and back into the small encampment.
    “Just leave the bastard there; he’ll just think it’s another drunken dream, half blood.” The elf said in common. Tris frowned at the word half blood; she wasn’t used to that attitude from elves. Very unsure what to do she spied the fire and took a seat opposite the elf.
    The elf pulled some arrows onto her lap and started to trim the feathers and check that the shaft was straight and well made. Tris sat with her legs pulled up against her chest and her head bent low. Several times she had tired to speak some elvish, yet the words wouldn’t come. She guessed from her experience of death, that in something must be sacrificed, and instead of her memory, it was her ability to speak.

    She looked about the place and noticed the paladin asleep on his bedroll, his back to the fire and now partly awake group. He appeared to still be wearing his amour, a slivery fine metal with a blue cloak cast to the side. The symbol of Tyr etched into the back of his heavy plate. The elf saw Tris staring at the paladin.
    “No need to be drooling half blood, he’s the one who saved you, least that can be done is him waking up to your smiling grateful face.” She spoke in elvish.
    Tris somewhat annoyed opened her mouth to speak but only a low growl came from her throat, along with her gesturing the elf laughed.
    “I didn’t know you were mad either!” She put on a smirk and went back to her work. Tris rolled her eyes and suddenly realised how tired she was, looking up to the elf she saw that the scroll was spread out on her lap and the elf’s finger pointing at Tris. She gestured ‘no!’ though nothing happened.
    “Oh yes I forgot that you half’s couldn’t be spelled asleep, she rooted around in a pack as she pulled out another scroll. Tris jumped up and was tense. She thought about running into the wood again, but little help that would be.
    “No worries, it’ll just make you sleep for a few hours half blood.” The elf said, Tris shook her head, gesturing wildly that she didn’t want to be put asleep. The elf was quite blind to this and was already chanting the spell. Tris turn around and started to run, but fell down after a few paces.
    “Humph, that should keep things in order for a while….” The elf strode over to Tris and gathered up her limp body and dropped her next to the sleeping paladin.
    Rooting in a pack she pulled out an apple and took a bite as she started out on the early morning rounds._


  • _Tris’s mass storm was still bellowing loudly, the lighting ricocheted around the place and would spark for minutes at a time. She was still curled up in the calm eye of the storm, feeling whole and fully contented. She stared at the water’s shiny dark surface, watching the ripples spread out into the edges of the storm. The dark colour, was a little boring to look at after so long.

    She waved her hand over the surface, like washing a window at home. The water’s surface was smooth and hard like glass. What was below its shadowy depths, suddenly the urge to explore was overwhelming. She sat up and tapped the glassy shine, her hand became wet then it dried off, she tapped again, though this time her hand up went straight through. She pulled her hand out and looked at the tar like substance covering her arm. It dripped off and landed with a ‘plop’ on the watery glass.

    As Tris stood up she could hear that her storm was slowly dissipating. She spread her arms wide and tried to call it back, yet she failed, there was no anger, to desire to stay here. As soon as the last cloud cleared, she could hear the same silvery voice again.
    “….By the will of Tyr, I command thee to arise and live again….”
    A white light broke through the dark haze of a sky, the beam landed at Tris’s feat. She gingerly set her foot foreword, and electric calm feeling spread through her body. She closed her eyes and felt at peace.
    Her foot seemed to turn silvery and see though in the comforting light. Her foot slid further forward, her ankle now bathed in the light. In a sudden jerk the calm feeling was gone and the rush and urge to pluck her from here washed over Tris.

    Her foot was yanked quickly and she fell against the water and the light proceeded to pull her up. Tris clawed at the dark water, but getting no grip on the shiny surface, she looked at the light as half of her leg was becoming submerged.
    Tearing at the surface of the water she pulled it apart and pushed her arms into the dark liquid. In a swarm the dark stuff began to spread from the tear in the water and wash it self over Tris, submerging her body into the tear. Her leg was pulled from the light as she dived under and deeper into her mind.

    The paladin fell back breathing quickly and heavily, the half dead woman’s body throw aside in the breaking of their minds. He wiped the salty sweat from his forehead with a shaky hand and rested his head in his hands. He was absolutely worn out from effort, and the woman’s spirit had buried itself even deeper into her mind. It had taken a lot of will power to try and hold the woman’s spirit as well.

    The fire next to him was beginning to get low, the embers a pale orange though it was still to hot for the paladin. He reached over to the limp body of the strange woman and lay her straight, again resting her on his bed roll and clearing the mass of hair away from her eyes.
    He mumbled a pray as he held his pendent of Tyr, rubbing at the soft metal and biting his lip in stress. He feared that if he didn’t pull the spirit from the deep hole soon, it would be lost forever. The elf and the other man had long given up in watching the paladin vain struggles. He felt drained and tired now, and he only had until dawn, then they would move on if he couldn’t save the woman.

    It was still early into in the night, but if he fell asleep, his chance would be lost. Rooting amongst his pack he pulled out some potions and checked the labels, one a healing potion, to pull the fatally wounded from deaths firm grip. The other a potion to end one’s suffering. Maybe, if he ended her misery, he could bring he back another time. But it was costly and there wasn’t always the chance it would work.

    He clasped his hands against his chest and prayed to Tyr as he gritted his teeth, something could be done, and he just didn’t know what.
    Then out from the back of his memory, an old teachers wise words:
    “When you judge someone, judge them fairly and know their vision before you act.”
    Of course! He had to speak with the spirit, comfort it and then ask it to come back, not just drag it from its own ‘home’. Kissing his pendent he smiled and tucked it back into his shirt, then readied himself for the battle that might lead ahead._


  • _“Wake up……why won’t you hear me…Woman…wake up!”
    Those strange voices had been surrounding Tris for a while now, drifting over her every so often. They were disturbing voices, ruining her happy silence. Tris was laying down on something, water perhaps, it seemed to splash and lap like it did. Yet if it was water, why was she floating on it? It didn’t matter, wonder and unusual things can happen in the deep recess of ones’ mind. She was happy here, free from all the aguish that a pitiful mortal body held, no every day worries, no strains on life: just an ocean of bliss and empty meagre thoughts. She couldn’t tell if she was staring at a sky or a dark haze. She could tell the water was black, or a deep shade of something. In ones’ mind, in dark corners where we can find solitude there is no physical body, no senses and no moral. Happiness in its best form, golden is the silence.

    “By the gods….she shalt not awaken...wake up……wake up...”
    That annoying voice again, Tris lifted a hand- or something- up and tried to wave the echo away. It went beautifully quiet again, then after a short while the echoes came back, just in garbled whisperers. Tris wasn’t very bothered; maybe it was another person to come to talk with her again.

    “Wake up! Woman! Hear my voice and awaken!.......She shalt not be lost!.....” It echoed louder this time, silvery and metallic, bouncing around the invisible walls of her mind. She turned over and covered her ears –or blocked her mind- to avoid listening to the disrupting noises.
    The voice grew louder and little less distant. Tris suddenly stood up, and yelled her own shrill reply.
    “Leave me be...I have my peace!.......Let me rest!” She gleefully fell back on the water with a giggle, feeling the voices leave her boundless sanctuary. It was quiet for a little while longer, until a wave of voices and angelic sounds spun around her haven.

    “We refuse…..”It faded again. “We…..refuse….” It echoed about, stronger.
    “We refuse to let you…….to let……you……fade away.”
    For Tris, this was the final act, they must be banished from her mind, she wanted to stay in this eternal empty, silent bliss, nobody should know about this place. She stood up again, and gathered the anger inside her mind. It gathered into it’s barest form, a whirling storm of lighting and thunder. It clattered around the haze, slowly covering the entire dark sky. She was there, making the noise louder and louder until it blocked out the voices. Using the raw gift of her mind she made and sound spot amidst the storm. She floated back down contently. Happy her refugee hadn’t been disturbed.

    The three figures bending over the edge of the river were at a total lost for ideas. The woman hadn’t aroused, rubbing the heat back into her hands and feat had done nothing apart from getting the old blood moving again. Pinching her arm hard only left a nasty mark that would bruise. She seemed to be barely clinging to life yet keeping a firm foot hold in this world. The figure of the three in armour had refused out right to let her die, he had sensed something there and was determined to bring her back, not matter the cost. At first he performed all sorts of acts with a talisman to sense for evil, nothing had been sensed. The elven shaped one of the three hadn’t much concern for the apparent half blood that was in the woman.

    “I believe we should just perform her last rights and cremate her body; clearly there is nothing but her numb mind left.” The voice of the elf shape was softly spoken and female.
    “We shalt not do such a thing!” The shape in amour broke in; he cradled the woman’s head in his arm and tenderly caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I refuse to let her fade away, she has a chance to live and it will not be taken away!”

    The elf woman scowled and stood up, patting off her clothes and from instinct rested her hand on her quiver of bows. The third remained quiet, almost enjoying the fight between the elf and the paladin. After a couple minutes bicker, he injected an idea.
    “Aye calm ye two!” he gestured calmly wafting his hand in a downward motion. “We simply set up camp, and see if old Tyr may have the grace to save her, if not we do her rites and move on!” He beamed at his own supposed brilliance, and finishing the idea by whipping his hands against each other.

    The elf and armoured man just stared at the third man, almost gob smacked that at the fact he had come up with something worth saying. The elf was the quickest to wipe the look from her face and not give the human the satisfaction he wanted. The paladin smiled, almost giving the elf a smug ‘I said so’ expression. The elf muttered in her own tongue about foolish humans and filthy half breeds, as she strode away from the two.

    “I bid she will live, she is worth knowing.” The paladin whispered. The third man patted him on the back, which only sounded like a hollow clang.
    “Any pretty face is worth knowing!” He grinned an awful grin and winked at him. The paladin’s face sunk into a look of utter disbelief. His hand snaked out and took hold of the man’s shirt firmly.
    “I pray Tyr will stop me from slaking your lust with my blade, if not the desire will still burn in me!” The paladin growled low in his throat, he let go of the man’s shirt and watched him slink away into the bushes with a contented smirk on his lips.

    The paladin turned his attention to the strange woman in his arms; he had thought her to be a water dryad lying upon the bank, getting dry and relaxing, though when he had made a noise the estranged sprite had not fled.
    Sweeping his right arm under her legs he lifted the woman easily and too exited into the overgrowth of the forest. Praying in his heart that this woman would live._


  • _Tris lay in her wooden bed, curled up around her woollen covers as she listened to the household waking up. She could hear the children below making a racket with pots and pans. It was the day off for the village, market day came once a month and it was always a pleasant holiday. Tris eased her self from the bed and gingerly set her foot down on the wooden floor, hoping not to make a creek. Slowly and carefully she stepped over to the door frame. She brought down her foot a little too hard which made a small creek.
    She held her breathe as all went quiet in the house, then a thunder storm of feet clattered up the stairs and three tiny children flung themselves at Tris. She laughed and giggled at she was wrestled over to the bed and they began to tickle her mercilessly. She pretended to faint from all the laughing. The three peered in at Tris’s still face, the youngest pulled back Tris’s eye lid. The eye was there but it seemed to be blank. It snapped back into life as Tris leapt up and started to growl and hiss as she chased the children down the stairs. The squealed in delight as their noise and play fighting awoke the rest of the house. The all landed in the wooden kitchen, out of breathe and panting. Tris’s mother sat at the table tucking into a bowl of oat and warm milk smiling at the group.

    “I see you made a noise again Tris” Mezi sighed with a twinkle in her eye. Tris laughed in reply and hoisted the smallest one onto her hip and walked over to the broth bubbling on the cooker.
    “It’ll just be like this until I get my own” She grinned and winked. The tiny child in her arm sucked her thumb as she fiddled with some of Tris’s brown curly hair. Using only her left hand she expertly laid out four extra bowls and spooned the warm oat broth into them. The child in her arm wriggled and moaned to be put down.
    “Just a moment Junila” Tris said firmly, the child stopped wriggling immediately; Tris passed a bowl to Junila and let her down. Then she set the table with the bowls and spoons. The children hummed around and were eating soundly. Tris stood by the pot and ate hers there.
    “When is the market coming here mother?” Tris asked as she licked her fingers clean and stacked up the bowls.
    “Mmm…About noon I should think…” her mother thought as she tapped her spoon on the wooden bowls edge. “And we still have to pack the clothes and dry some more wool” she added after a moments thought.
    Suddenly the door was kicked open and a tall burly man strode in. He cursed as he lunged a heavy sack behind him. Tris smiled happily and ran to greet her father.
    “Father! How are you?” She laughed as she landed a kiss on his unshaved cheek. Old Grigor was getting on a bit but it never stopped him from a hard mornings work. He embraced his adopted daughter and nudged her cheek.
    “How’s ma old girl?” he grinned back. He ruffled her hair, though Tris’s age was about 25 for human years, her elven side made her about 18 or 19. The other three children crowded around his legs and demanded attention. Calling papa and tugging at his shirt. Tris stepped back to let the others in. She felt a firm hand on her shoulder; she spun around with her hair standing on end. Her mother shrugged a sorry and whispered in her ear.
    “Go and get ready dear, I’ll need your help in about a hour or so, go take a nice bathe or what not.” Her mother instructed. Tris nodded and run
    up the stairs, grabbing her old pack and stuffed some pieces into it. She was still wearing a loose shirt and some old breeches she merely pulled a cloak over herself and hurried from her house via the back entrance.

    Luckily for Tris and her family, her home was very close to the river. She plodded along bare foot and was very much enjoying a relaxing walk to the river. It was warm and still early, so not many people were about. She hummed a well know tune to herself, letting her thoughts drift. She suddenly got the image of Zoma’s scared face in her head. She stopped and felt her stomach turn over it self, she felt sick when ever she thought of him. The wound was healing but it still sends a pang through her stomach, it was one of the reasons she had left Narfell the place was to small. She had lost a chance to settle with a man, but maybe it wasn’t right, maybe she was too fussy, too regretful about her past. She wasn’t hurt or angry; she had grown used to the pain. Learnt to accept it and move on, why should she hold someone down when they could do so much more than her.
    She shivered and rubbed her arm and carried on walking, with her arms still wrapped around her body. She reached the river after a few more minutes, slowly being absorbed by her own thoughts and numbness. She glanced around until she found the small Glenn which had a small cover of trees. She dropped her bag and tore off her clothes and ran right for the water, diving in smoothly. To her it was second nature to swim, as it was for one to breathe and think: it was perfectly natural.

    The water was soothing and cool; it drowned her thoughts further as she swam along the deep water bed. Opening her eyes she could see her mass of brown hair floating around her, she could feel the air starting to burn in her lungs. She let her body go still and gently felt herself float to the surface. She gasped for air as she broke the water’s skin. Her sharp ears quickly sound out that she wasn’t alone, a sound of leaves braking underfoot. She saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. She could also barely smell another, but the wetness of the river hid that. Muttering to her self she turned around and began to swim back up stream.

    She found her old spot and pulled her shivering body out into the long grass. The grass was still wet from the morning dew but it added a pleasant tingling effect. She let out a somewhat laboured sigh as she rubbed her self dry with the wool cloth. She stretched to finish drying her shoulder, when she happened to glance the scars on her neck. A cold swept down her back as she remembered. Some how again, she could feel the man’s dry lips kissing her neck and biting down hard, then the mixtures of feeling when she thought of Elor. She snatched her hand away, and vowed not to think of Elor as a vampire.
    She shrugged on her old clothes, though dirty it would suffice for the packing. Pushing her mass of curls and waves out of her face she gathered up her items and set off at a steady jog back to her home.

    She enjoyed running, it gave her a free feeling as her feet came down on the soft turf and she went one step further. Her mind seemed to clear when she ran. The path carried on for a while and a massive water fall came into view. It was beautiful site, a rocky cliff with fast current and foaming rapids. The path went right up the side of it and it was often wet from the spray from the river. Tris was so involved in her running and pace she didn’t bother to slow down or check her footing.
    In what seemed a small lapse of time, Tris’s feet slipped on the mud and she fell to her side into the raging river. The shock of the water knocked all air from her lungs; she kept on turning and bumping against rocks which stopped her from getting her footing. She felt her bag slip from her arm and get washed away in the undercurrent.

    The lack of air made her head ache though it seemed to be making her eyes sight sharper, she could see everything, the fish swimming in calmer parts if the river, the weeds and plants clinging for life. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears and seemed to blur her eyes into a red glaze.
    “Oh Gods” she thought, she was going to die, and her body washed away. This was her last panicked thought as the struggling and pain finally vanished.

    Anyone who had been walking along the riverside might have seen a dark shape of a humanoid slipping over the edge of the water fall and landing amongst the rocks. It was quickly swept away and finally disappeared.
    Her family wondered where she was that day, after a few days worry; they accepted that she might have moved onto a better place for new adventures. Neima wondered why he hadn’t seen her face on market day and why she hadn’t come to pick up her horse. A few people searched by the river a few times, but had found her washed up bag.
    Again she had vanished, but it seemed not many people cared. Again she was forgotten_