Elena Nightsbrooke
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-This chapter has faded beyond recall-
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The two sides collided in a wave of sound and destruction, as weapons flashed and blood was spilt. A roaring sound was all Elena could hear and she was unable to discern the line between the combatants, so chaotic was the scene. Stunned into immobility by the display of savageness, she was almost pinned to the earth by a stray arrow, which barely missed her by a few hairs. Gasping, she raised the cumbersome shield in her left hand, supporting it with her right, as she tried to move around without getting too close to the fighting, which was taking place only a few paces away from her.
“Keep moving!” A nearly unrecognizable Graham, face streaked with dirt and blood, shouted at her as he sprinted past to help a fellow soldier in need. Elena’s mind whirled, for her orderly world was being torn to shreds at that very moment, shock rendering her movements leaden. She could only watch somewhat dumbly as lives were taken before her eyes at a frightening pace. The soldiers were pushing the orcs back, but there were already bodies lying on the ground, with wounds terrible to behold. Elena hurried to each one; but at the edges of her vision she could see more, and her heart sank. What could just one healer do, when faced with so many casualties?
She checked the person for his pulse, and when she could find none, she moved to another. There were some who were still breathing, and she applied her healing spells as best as she could, relying on her supplies of medical aids when the need arose. However, with each passing moment, she could feel herself draining of strength, and her bag becoming lighter and lighter. But every time when someone stood up on shaky legs, picked up the nearest weapon that was within reach and stumbled on, her spirit rose. Had she thought about it more, she would have been appalled by their single-mindedness, and would have debated upon the wisdom of her own actions. For the moment she had only one over-riding thought, which was to save as many as she could. There was no time between breaths to think, nor to argue.
The orcs had hitherto been kept at bay, but as the line grew thinner more of them began to break through, and was hotly pursued by some of the men. One such orc, for reasons inexplicable, saw Elena, and decided to target her instead. With a gleeful warcry it charged straight at her, axe raised.
A clammy hand gripped her insides as Elena saw death mirrored in the orc’s eyes, and tried to warn someone or place an obstacle between them. The orc still kept coming, and was now within striking distance. The axe swung in a mighty stroke…
…and was deflected with a loud “thunk!” as Elena hastily put up her shield. The force of the blow transferred itself through the shield though, and a sensation of pain jolted up her arms. The orc bellowed and the axe was now returning on the back stroke, once again smashing into the shield which Elena was cowering behind. Desperation rose up in her throat as the blows kept coming on relentlessly, without stopping.
Then out of nowhere a figure leapt upon the orc, sinking a long dagger into its neck, splattering Elena’s shield and part of her robe with blood. It was the half elven archer! Without as much as missing a beat, he rose and pulled out his dagger in a graceful fluid motion. Elena stared wide-eyed at him, lost for words, but he never hesitated, just sheathed his weapon, unslung his bow, and ran off again. Elena murmured a brief prayer of thanks to Ilmater, and hoped no harm would befall him.
The flow of the battle was not going smoothly; suddenly Graham was at her side again, panting, his sword stained with gore. “We need to force our way out now – the orcs are trying to catch us in a pincer! Not enough men to form a wedge at my side, so I need your help!” Elena protested. “But I can’t kill!”
“No killing! Just use your shield!” Graham yelled above the din, and beckoned her to follow him. They ran to a point where Farrel and some other people Elena recognized were fighting. Graham rushed forward, shouting hoarsely: “Link shields!”
Everyone within hearing range quickly gathered together, and there was a booming sound as shields were thrust together into an overlapping pattern. Farrel motioned for Elena to fill up a gap; she ran forward and added her shield to the wall. Elena felt the blood rushing to her face as the heat and cramp, not to mention the smell, of bodies pressed together so closely got to her.
“Now push!” Instantly Elena felt a pressure on her back as the soldiers in the back applied their hands to the people in the front. Almost as one, the wedge chanted. “One, two!” Despite her lack of training, Elena quickly caught on and moved as the others did, pacing her steps to their shouts. She could feel an overwhelming resisting force on the other side of the shield, but the formation progressed forward inexplicably, one step at a time. Sweat beaded up on her forehead, and the handle of her shield grew warm and slick. Every now and then something thudded on the shields, and there was an angry roaring filtering through the solid wood.
Slowly, Elena felt herself gaining ground, and she idly wondered what was happening outside. Then from somewhere to her left, Graham called out in muffled tones. “That’s far enough, boys. Forwards!”
Everyone angled their shields away from their neighbors’, and veered away in different directions, their weapons out once again to meet that of the orcs. Elena was shoved about as men ran past her, and the catch on her bag opened, spilling several bottles onto the soil. She bent down to retrieve them, and just when she was straightening up, a shadow loomed over her…
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"They're coming!"
The cry was echoed down the line and suddenly the weariness in the trenches was gone, replaced with flurried activity. Those that had been resting against their shields quickly snatched them up, while the creaking of bows indicated that arrows were being drawn in readiness.
Elena rubbed her eyes and came to her feet, unable to resist a yawn. Next to her, Graham was squinting in the semi-darkness of the early morning, crossbow levelled in front of him. "Wake up, cuteness, look alive!" he called over his shoulder.
"I'm awake!" Elena protested, and stumbled over the uneven floor of the trench to lean against the side and look out at the misty plain ahead.
"Didn't think they would get this far." Farrel murmured. The sound gradually carried over to them: a rumbling and monotonous war drums. Shapes grew larger in the obscuring mists, then revealed themselves: orcs running full tilt with weapons brandished, howling in berserker fury. They suddenly fell as the bowmen in the trenches released their projectiles simultaneously, the sounds of strings snapping back and arrows whistling in the air. A cheer resounded down the trenches, but quickly died out as everyone saw just how large the numbers of the orcs were. They kept coming in a wave, jumping over the bodies of the slain, howling with fury.
More distressing news was passed down the line; they had been surrounded on two sides! Graham shook his head. "We just have to hold this area until the knights come." But even that optimism seemed hollow to Elena. Doubt could clearly be discerned in his expression, and he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
Then a runner came stumbling past, relaying orders; unless they shifted positions, the trenches were going to be their graves. There was a collective exclamation of expletives, which would have been funny if the situation was not serious. The best laid plans often came to nought.
Farrel turned to Elena. "You ready to come out with us?"
Elena suddenly felt a coldness in the pit of her being for no apparent reason. Reality had caught up at last, and now she was truly going into a battle for the first time in her life. She felt the blood draining from her face.
It was Graham's turn to look at Elena and squeeze her shoulder gently. "Don't faint on me now, cuteness. I need you to patch me up." He attempted to grin, but Elena couldn't speak. "Just keep behind me, and mind you don't get your nightie all tangled up."
Farrel murmured softly. "Pray for us if you can, sister…"
A rousing shout from those gathered in the trench; men were propelling themselves over the side, weapons unsheathed and glinting in the early morning sun. Graham and Farrel had also risen up, a spirited cry issuing from their throats, and in the blink of an eye, their boots were on the ground above.
Elena looked at the crimson and golden streaks in the sky, gathering her wits. She then clambered out after them a heartbeat later, right into the field where death stalked.
-
Camp experience was…well, not exactly what she had expected. Sure, she had gone thinking that perhaps she would last only a few moments, but it had already been a tenday and she was still breathing.
She was very much alive...but tired beyond belief. At first, at seeing some of the worse injuries, she felt like swooning, but she went about her task of healing with a dogged determination, as she realised that there was no one else who could do the job. She had the occasional fit of panic, though, and had to sit down and breathe deeply for a few moments before her hands were steady enough to do the delicate work. There were one or two cases she couldn't handle, but merely watch the litter borne away as she did the best she could. The feeling was cold, but inescapable. Putting it all behind her, she remembered she had to fetch a new bucket of water from the stream.
Speaking of water...
Elena distinctly remembered Graham shouting after her: "Mind you don't use that water for bathing, young lady!" and laughing out loud together with the others the first time she fetched a bucket. She took off her shoe and tossed it at him, and he returned it with a bow and grin.
There had been a lot of rude shocks when “the cuteness", as Graham referred to her, first arrived in camp with her naivete and lack of worldly knowledge. Elena almost became a daily focus of jokes from the people around her, but their humor, though rough, was good-natured, and she was treated somewhat condescendingly, given that she was the only girl amongst the group.
The more memorable incidents were when she asked for utensils for eating and the men had burst into laughter when one of them offered his left and right hands to feed her. Or the time when she commented that there was lots of rats in the trenches and had screeched in fright when someone picked one up and flung it her way. Elena quickly saw for herself how squalid the conditions were in the field, and that the men only had their ingenuity in improvising and good humor to get them through. For a time, she experienced her frustration at not being able to change things to her liking, but eventually accepted the fact and didn’t begrudge their daily dose of humor. A level of tolerance to cursing and swearing was built up, and given the atmosphere of the camp, it almost seemed like an outing in a park than a war once she looked past the rough edges.
Slowly Elena got to know them better; some of them had friends, families, hobbies, and curious pursuits. She even met a half-elf, who was reputedly the best shot in the section, and heard stories from them all, some of them tall tales, some bawdy jokes that brought a flush to her face when she realized it was aimed at her, and some sobering personal experiences. She got to praying for deliverance for them; and when Graham found out, the section called themselves Elena’s Angels and swore to protect her at all costs amidst much sniggering and guffaws. Concerned by her lack of martial skills and peace vows, one of them eventually procured her a shield and taught her how to deflect blows, which was a welcome distraction from her duties.
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The Beginning
The Reverend Mother stopped speaking and looked expectantly at the small assembly of church members. Her eyes glanced over to the middle-aged man by her side, who wore a semi-hopeful expression on his face. The battles against the horde had not been going well, and she could see the lines of worry and beginnings of exhaustion on his face.
Murmurs amongst the congregation; she could hear the doubts in their voices, the urgent questionings and the rumors being spread. She didn't begrudge them their lack of initiative; who was to expect an apprentice, barely adults, to risk their lives in violent confrontation, with their skills untested?
The middle-aged man spoke up, clutching his helmet sweatily in his hands, his words coming out with difficulty, but also with a plea and desperation. "Look…I'd consider it a personal favor if just any one of you could just agree to join us. I've not much time left; and some of my men aren't going to make it past tonight if I don't get a replacement healer."
More murmurs; how did the previous medic die? Was it really dangerous out there as they said? Were the soldiers rough?
The Reverend Mother silenced the group once more with outstretched hands: "If we all can't decide on it...we shall stick to the time-honoured way. Let us draw lots. Lord Ilmater help us in our time of urgent need."
The lots were gathered, and drawn.
"Elena Nightsbrooke." The Reverend Mother looked down at her, a little kindly, but also with a hint of worry.
The girl bowed her head and stepped forward as a collective sigh of relief was released behind her. Half in a daze and half in disbelief, Elena received a blessing from her teacher as the rest watched on.
"Why me?" She felt like screaming her objections and running away. Certain that her doom was out there, waiting to claim her. A tingling sensation spread through her arms.
Almost by reflex, Elena commanded herself to repeat the prayers she had learnt by heart, this time more to occupy her mind and numb her feelings than for comfort.
The middle aged man laid his hand on her shoulder. "Gather your supplies and make haste. We have barely enough time to make it by nightfall."
When everyone had departed the hall, the Reverend Mother turned to her and asked her quietly, "Elena, do you think you want to go?"
Elena wanted to say no, but she bit back the response. She couldn't betray her teacher's confidence in her. It was unthinkable, just like killing a chicken for sport instead of food. A small "yes", then.
"Child, I have confidence in you. Have confidence in yourself and Ilmater's guidance. Go safely, and come back safely. There is more that I have yet to teach you."
And in the space of an hourglass's turn, Elena found herself astride a horse, bidding farewell to the Reverend Mother and her best friend Helen, riding beside the captain, to the fields of battle, where the fate of her town would be decided...
-
The sun had only barely crept over the horizon; shadows formed pools of shadow in the forest. Still, the figure in white moved from one spot to another, crouching down at times, reaching up at others. There was a constant sound of rustling and snipping.
Elena looked inside her basket. There was still some space left, and she could probably make another batch of balm with the right ingredients. Sensing the warmth filtering from the trees, she shrugged off the robe and bundled it across her neck, and revelled in the fresh morning air.
A part of her was delighting at the mere marvel of the forest around her; so lush and majestic! Only the gods could have made it so. Another part gnawed incessantly at her; the emptiness where a smile and twinkling eyes should have been. Automatically, her fingers went to the ring she wore on her left hand. It helped, but never really dulled the ache.
She blinked; was that the White Stag standing next to that tree there? No, it was her imagination, and she breathed easier again. She hoped that she wouldn't see it often, because it meant that she had to follow it, just in case someone was hurt. And yet the enigmatic Stag never allowed her to come close, nor see it clearly. She had no doubts that some people would have thought her delusional, but it wasn't a coincidence that everytime she saw it, she saved someone's life. Oh well, Elena reasoned, it is the belief and deed that counts, not what people thought.
That incident in the woods that day had set her thinking. Was she ever able to defend herself adequately? The way things turned out had seemed so – and even the White Stag seemed to have taken it into consideration. However, it still nagged at her that her peers could effortlessly take down a goblin soldier, whereas her heart would seize up when she came across one by herself. She simply hadn’t the training nor the heart to kill with intention. Elena sighed. It was the will of her patron and Tymora to see her to the end of days.
She stopped short when she caught sight of the girl she saved. The girl didn’t move, but merely watched her carefully, crouched down in a posture of alertness, like a cat ready to spring out of harm’s way. Elena offered her a smile, but didn’t get one in reply. She took one step forward.
The girl took one step backward.
Elena thought hard for a moment. Then, deliberately, she reached for a piece of bread she’d saved and put it on the grass in front of her carefully. Turning her back on the girl, she walked purposefully back to town. But after ten paces, she sneaked a look back.
The girl was examining the piece of bread she put down.
And so it went on, days passed where she’d sense someone watching her and catching glimpses of the girl while collecting herbs, and she’d put down bread each time before leaving. But on the seventh day, Elena came across a neatly laid bunch of herbs in her path, placed there deliberately to catch her attention. Whirling around, she saw the girl looking out from behind a tree.
Elena smiled, pressed the herbs to her heart and put them in her basket before continuing in the dim light of the dawn.
-
She stared at the manuscript in front of her, but could make no meaning out of it. The lines of words ran into each other, merging at the top and bottom, and swam like fumes in front of her very eyes. Resisting the impulse no longer, she buried her face in her arms, sleep overcoming her senses but not her mind. She wavered in and out of the border of consciousness, where the real and dreams mix, and everything seemed chaotic, but also ordered with a purpose…
…and recalled the exhilarating rush of energy, pure and swift, as she became a vessel of her patron’s power, sending life flooding back into the immobile form that lay before her. She had only dreamt of this power, but never in her wildest imagination imagined that she would attain it! All her fears and worries melted away as she made contact with that ethereal force. For a moment, it was as though the room had disappeared in a blinding white light, and she could feel the very pulse of the world, a harmonious and comforting presence around the edges of her being. And when she blinked, the body before her was breathing again.
While the implication and confirmation of her success was still dawning upon her, she was hit by a sudden wave of nausea and weakness. She panicked, but calmed down a bit as she recalled what the healers have shared of their experience. Still, it was frightening, frightening to experience firsthand of what she had only previously seen others done and felt. Then a new emotion rose to the fore: elation, for she had done it! What she had sought for so long, was finally bestowed upon her at last. She could finally administer fully to the people she had dedicated her life to serving…she had been granted the epitome of healing powers by her god. Tears collected in her eyes when she recalled that day long ago in the past…
…the sound of bells tolling, the white clouds in the blue sky, the wind amongst the grass, the white painted walls of the cathedral. It was hushed in the cathedral, with only the five of them before the Reverend Mother. One by one, they stepped up solemnly as their names were called, and received the circlet of leaves upon their foreheads. She never doubted, then, that it was her calling, her destiny – to receive the recognition upon the completion of her studies as a healer. Ever since she entered training she knew she wanted to aid people the best she could.
The five of them raised their hands and began to speak the sacred vow:
“In the name of Lord Ilmater, do we pledge ourselves to his service, to go amongst the people and spread his blessings and his grace to all that desire it, forsaking no one, unto the furthest corner of the land. We shall hold all life sacred and do all we can to honour it, using our skills for good, teaching all that desire to be taught, keeping sacred our patient’s confidences, and avoiding judgment of another’s prescriptions. In all we do we shall uphold the ideals of our profession and Lord Ilmater’s mandate.”
It had been a long journey, back from the child she was, to the person she is today. Every moment had counted, and who was to say that it had not been worth it?
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Great story. Full of inner character torment for Elena but not heavy-handed. Funny at points and scary at points. Good work!
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"We should teach her a good lesson…"
Judging from the voices, she was quite close to the commotion. Elena frowned somewhat as she pressed herself close to the large oak that served as her hiding place, and inched forward cautiously so that she could have a better view of what was going on.
A group of three men stood around a clearing, clad in the garb of hunters. A pile of small animals, including badgers, lay at their feet, some still twitching in the grasp of cruel metal traps. One of them was forcefully restraining a girl, and she looked no more than ten summers old, dressed in an odd outfit that seemed to be made out of hide and leaves, dirty beyond belief. She was clenching her fists and hissing at the men, but it was apparent that the burly man had the advantage of size and strength.
"Forget it, if the ranger catches us here you know what's going to happen. I say we just let her go..."
"She released a young deer - a young deer! Do you know how much money it could have fetched?"
One of the unpleasant-looking, rough men strode over to the girl, and gave her a hard slap across the face without ceremony, then shook her roughly.
"Now that I know who's been sabotaging our traps, I ain't going to let it pass so soon."
Elena felt her face flushing with anger. That was no way to treat a child! Without a second thought, she stepped around the tree to confront the men, her voice raised a pitch: "Let her go!"
The men stood stock still and looked at her. The girl looked at her.
Elena looked back at them.
It suddenly ocurred to her that she was very much alone, out in the middle of the wilderness with nary a weapon on her, up against a trio of men who, from the look of things, could have easily taken on a polar bear. There wasn't Mariston with his sword, Constantin who could melt out of the shadows, nor Tolin in trollform hidden by invisiblity by her side.
Holy lord Ilmater, the Compassionate and Wise, what have I gotten myself into now? Elena groaned inwardly. She struggled to maintain a suitably angry-looking facade as fear rose to grip her heart. This was becoming all too like a bad ending to would-be heroes that she always read about.
The man who slapped the girl started to grin, and it wasn't a "nice-to-meet-you" grin. "Well, well, look who turned up to rescue her youngling. Didn't anyone teach you that a pretty face like that shouldn't walk around in the woods alone? There's some big, baaad wolves around."
Elena swallowed a little, the colour fading from her cheeks slightly. "Sir, I highly recommend that you release the girl immediately. You're liable to uh, twist her wrist out of joint, which have proven to be a health hazard."
The men looked at each other and burst out laughing. One of them bowed mockingly and winked. "I'd say it'd be nice to have such…high-class...company for a little...party. Do join us..." One of them started to move menacingly towards her.
Starting to sweat slightly, Elena tried diplomacy. "Uhm, could we all just...uhh, sit down for tea and talk things over?" She winced. It sounded dumb even to her.
By now the man was around ten paces from her. It looked as though things were beginning to turn ugly.
Elena spied a fallen branch, big enough to serve as a crude club. She quickly snatched it up and tried to look dangerous with it. Needless to say, the man only smiled wider. "Ooh, getting physical now, are we?" He feinted to the left, then sprang lightning-like the remaining distance, in a practised roll with the intent of getting under her guard and knocking her down.
"I won't stand for this! Don't make me hurt-" Elena's eyes widened as the man came barrelling down her way. At that moment Elena had no reservations about what she had to do, for the intention of causing harm was evident in every gesture of the attack. With a grace that would have made a matador proud, she deftly sidestepped the man, and concentrating on a point on the man's neck as he hurtled past, whacked him with the branch. Horbie would have been pleased to see the practical application of what was a kitchen trick, taught with a rolling pin and an arm for making pastries!
"Crack!"
The branch broke - and the man recovered from his fall, murder in his eyes. He took one step towards Elena, then abruptly rolled his eyes and fell heavily to the ground. Elena muttered a brief apology.
The other man who had been arguing with the first spat to the side. "Shit, you want to get serious, sister? Let's dance." He drew his sword from his scabbard and charged, yelling at the top of his voice, the twirling sword a silver blur in his hands.
Elena quickly turned and began to run, even as she was casting about desperately for a solution. A piece of wood was no match for a sharp edge! An idea presented itself, and Elena started to murmur the phrases of a divine spell. As the last syllables tumbled from her lips, she looked back and pointed at her antagonist.
Instantly, the man tripped himself up, his posture locked unnaturally, face frozen in surprise. Elena breathed a sigh of relief. The spell was prone to failure at times - that was close!
The remaining man had drawn his sword and forced it against the girl's throat, backing away deeper into the woods. Elena wondered how she could get the girl without harming her. Praying for a quick resolution, she suddenly had an inspiration. She ducked behind the tree she was hiding earlier.
The man was still retreating, with the girl struggling in his arms, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a shimmering in the air. He turned to face it, and that was when he felt two simultaneous applications of pressure, one on his elbow, which caused his arms to go numb, and one to his neck, which caused spots to dance across his eyes. Before long he blacked out and collapsed in front of Elena, the effects of the Sanctuary spell wearing off.
Elena looked around for the girl, and caught a glimpse of brown sliding into the hollows at the base of a tree. She cautiously approached the hollow, taking care not to move in a threatening manner. The three would-be assailants were floored, but still breathing. Elena inwardly mouthed a prayer of thanks to her patron, grateful that she hadn't taken any lives. That had been close!
Bringing her face on a level with the hollow, Elena could just barely discern the outline of a face, blue eyes shining in the dimness. Smiling nervously, she tried to coax the child out in a soothing voice. When she got no response, Elena hesitantly reached forward with her hand.
"OUCH!"
Elena quickly snatched her hand back, a perfect semicircle of teeth imprinted in her palm. So much for charity! Elena sighed and held her hand close to her body. She was at a loss of what to do with the child. Should she try to take her back to Jiyyd? On the other hand, she couldn't squeeze into the hollow - much less risk another bite! Elena decided that she couldn't help much further. Noting the animals still feebly trying to escape the traps, she walked over and pried several of them free, watching them limp in several different directions, trying to get as far away from her as possible.
Shaking her head, Elena made her way back to Jiyyd. Obviously it was not her day. At the very least, she had probably saved several lives, and had to be content with just that. She idly wondered if she had to make amends for the show of violence just then...
She didn't see the girl emerging from the hollow and gathering up one of the trapped badgers, staring after her retreating back until she had gone out of view...
-
It was quiet in the laboratory save for the muted sounds of liquids bubbling in their flasks and the sound of papers rustled by the wind. Elena put down the quill, massaged her hands, and looked out of the window at the snow-covered landscape. She sighed to herself softly.
As of late, she had been finding it rather tough to concentrate on her work. Only through sheer willpower was she able to shut out the thoughts that crowded her consciousness and carry on. However, it always left her feeling drained and somewhat displeased with herself.
She reminded herself that for the "greater good" one shouldered some burdens, but she also wondered if her personal life had suffered because of it, having left with little time to spend with those who mattered most to her. Her eyes fell across the holy symbol on the table, and a feeling of sad understanding rose in her. It would have to be that way, because she had responsbilities in her chosen path, if not to others, then a higher power. She would not regret the decision, but it would not be easier for her either. Thierulf would have supported her…
Elena closed her eyes and gathered her calm, trying to smooth over her troubled feelings so that she was able to tap into the bond between her and Thierulf. Feeling her pulse and breath slowing to a rhythm, she reached out mentally for him, dreading what she would find next.
Sure enough, she had the sensation of being hindered by a plane of force, just like the other times. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get past it. And just beyond the barrier, like through a wall of ice, she could discern Thierulf's faint stirrings of life, the only thing that told her he was alive, somewhere.
Involuntarily, the memory of how she was told that Thierulf had gone missing in Darromar and her subsequent, futile search for him in the field came flooding back and upset the link. Elena slumped back in her seat, trying not to let despair overwhelm her. She suddenly felt trapped, and the need to do something. Gathering a cloak, she left the laboratory.
On her way Elena passed some of the Order's members, but she was too distraught to stop and speak to them, only being able to offer a small smile to acknowledge them. Mariston looked concerned, because he knew what she was going through, but the newer ones like Lortaine or Richard looked puzzled at her when their friendly greetings fell flat. Elena made inwardly made a resolution to engage them in pleasant conversation next time.
The air turned colder and more quiet as she trekked east from Jiyyd's gate. Out here, surrounded by nature, she sought to let the peacefulness seep into her heart and keep her troubled thoughts at bay. All at once, she was acutely aware of how alone she was. Naturally she would only head outside accompanied by friends, and she found herself wishing that Horbag or Yarchum, or any of the other Guardians were with her. For a moment, she debated whether she should turn back, and an uncharacteristic sense of rebellion warred with common sense.
It was settled swiftly when out of the corner of her eye, she spied a white form bounding into the undergrowth. Elena's breath caught in her throat. The White Stag!
Elena rubbed her eyes, then immediately started into a run after the fleet-footed form as it ran deeper into the forest. Although she had her doubts about the creature, each time it appeared it meant that someone was in trouble and needed help. Everything else was forgotten as she raced after the creature, the exercise colouring her cheeks.
Elena stopped running when she realised that she had lost track of it. Quickly looking around, she breathed a sigh of relief, that she was still in familiar surroundings. Taking in lungfuls of air, she wondered what it wanted to lead her to. Then, there came the sound of a snapping branch, and faint voices in the distance off the path. Elena cautiously wound her way around the undergrowth towards the sounds.
-
-Dreams-
All was quiet, and only the sound of crickets thrilled through the still air. A cool draft blew the drapes around the bed inwards, and softly brushed against the outlined form in the blanket. A frown creased the brow of the peaceful face framed by golden tresses…
_A rosy pink-and-yellow glow suffused the air; it was the Shrine to the Dawn, where he said the sun never sets and hope is always there…
He?
And there he was, advancing over the green grass, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other opened out in greetings. The armour shone in the light, just like she remembered, but his smile was brighter. An unruly lock of hair tumbled over his eyes, but she could not mistake the happiness and love in them. Gathering up her skirt, she ran to meet him.
Pressure confirmed the touch of their bodies; heart to heart, they stood, arms wrapped around each other, an embrace to be remembered for eternity. A feeling of relief and familiarity washed over her as she remembered what it felt like to be near him, with her head against his chest. Simultaneously, they reached for each other: she to push back the hair from his eyes, he to tilt her chin up. The emotion that coursed through her was so strong, it was heartaching.
"Angel." He teased.
"Hero!" She shot back, and both laughed.
And then they were standing in the middle of the aisle, on a red carpet, in the Elfling Charm. She was dressed in violet and white of her wedding dress, while he had new embossed designs on his armour and a flowing cape with his personal heraldry on it. All around them, their friends were clapping and Rith was smiling as both of them slowly slid the rings on each other's fingers. He raised the veil and now she could see him clearly, smiling nervously. Feeling herself blushing, she could see him bending nearer and nearer...
Then he frowned. The clapping fell to silence.
"Thierulf?"
"Elena, I cannot always be at your side. You understand, don't you...I want to be always with you, but there are other things that call...I'm sorry."
Suddenly, mentally, she felt him distancing himself from her. Bewildered, she looked around. The place was empty. And when she turned back to him, he was already at the door. Beyond the door was darkness. The look on his face wrenched her heart. Regret, pain, longing...
She ran towards him. But no matter how much she ran, she could never close the distance. He stepped through the door slowly...and she reached an arm out imploringly.
"Wait! I'm coming with you!"
Bursting through the door, the scene shocked her into stillness. The land was blasted and desolate. Bodies lay strewn about, a giant graveyard created by a battle. The grey clouds above rumbled omniously.
Some of the people were not dead. They groaned and stretched out a hand to her. Unable to resist, she stopped to tend to them as well as she could, ripping pieces of her gown to bind their wounds. But as soon as she aided them, they died. And on the periphery of her vision, she sometimes thought she saw her friends running past, defending desperately against a nameless monster, but when she turned, she saw nothing.
The healing was taking a toll on her strength. But she could not ignore the wounded. She walked towards the next person, but the ground suddenly collapsed!
Darkness.
Two slits of red appeared in the black. It gradually changed to into a form once her eyes adjusted to the dimness.
Dragon!
It bellowed, a soul-shattering sound. The gaping maw opened, and she scrambled back. That was when out of nowhere, a familiar figure in shining armour jumped out in front of her, a two-handed sword flashing in its hands.
"Thierulf!"
But the man did not turn around, did not give any hint that he heard her. The dragon reared imperiously back, and morphed - into an armoured black knight with a glowing red sword. The man immediately charged this latest foe.
She picked herself up and tried to run to the battling combatants. They were always several steps from her, trading fierce blows and counter-attacks...heading inevitably to the edge of a precipe that neither seemed to be aware of. And just at the edge, the two of them managed to catch hold of each other's hands, straining to overbear the other.
She screamed once more. And this time the man did seem to hear, for he tilted his head slightly as if to face her. All at once, the both of them lost their balance, and tumbled from her view. Heart pounding, she ran to the edge, to stare at a sea of fire and molten rock below.
Jingle
What was that sound behind her? No, it couldn't be...a sound that has haunted her dreams persistently ever since...
She whipped her head back, and the saturnine grinning visage of a dark jester confronted her. A bell on his cap jingled again.
"HOW ABOUT A FLOWER, MY DEAR?" A disembodied hand appeared right before her. It opened to reveal a crushed flower oozing blood._
Green eyes flew open and a gasp involuntarily escaped Elena's lips. Heart racing, she looked at the ceiling, unable to move, choked with fear.
It was a few moments before she could get up from the bed. Trembling, she walked to the balcony, bathed in moonlight. Sitting on the wide ledge, she looked out at the grasslands that vanished into the horizon, willing herself to be calm.
He's not dead. If he is I will know it…he's somewhere and I will find him.
Twisting the ring on her finger, she read the fine inscription upon it.
To thy dearest angel
and a heart of gold,
my Eternal Love.Yes…she will need to seek him out, no matter what obstacles lay in her path.
-
-This chapter has faded beyond recall-
-
Dear Sister Helen,
If memory does not fail me, the book that I used for that research should be located on the third shelf of my cupboard, unless the novice whom you said is using my old quarters presently has rearranged things. I hope that she takes to her new life satisfactorily? And how does alma mater fare now?
Previously you asked if I was coming back to St Rhynda’s to teach. Well, I replied to Mother Juliena that although I would be honoured, I felt that it would be more purposeful to continue on my present path. Yes, I know that you might think "Ah! She is staying because she likes her suitor!" - well, that is one possible reason, but Ilmater help me, that is not the entire picture! I have learnt that another branch of our faith set up a missionary home near this region - at a town called N'last. I learnt of it quite by accident, but I have spending nearly every tenday helping out - it has started without much knowledge of the place nor resources, and I intend to do all I can to help my fellow brothers and sisters.
Besides, over the months that I have been here, I have spoken to various people, including followers of other faiths, and I must say these meetings have been very insightful and enriching. I would have liked to see some of my fellow faithful, but it appears the chances of doing so are few and far between and it seems a duty to represent my faith, even if it does sound a little proud. Besides, some of the people have encouraged me to stay on where my skills would be of use. I am sorry that I cannot tell you their names (I forgot!), but Ilmater knows that I am always grateful for their kind words.
I must confess that everything is not smooth sailing though, and a few times I saw red over the misconceptions of our faith. Imagine being called intentional sufferers and worse! I feel very unworthy of my anger since it is not the fault of the people, but I couldn't help it, and did my best to rein in my indignation and try to set the record straight. Ah, perhaps our Lord tests us often, as we must bear with prejudiced opinions as other ills, and I hope I have not been diminished in His eyes when I clench my fists!
You must not worry about my safety, Helen. Even though I told you the land is dangerous where monsters may strike at any moment, I have taken up with a guild called the Guardians. In the beginning, I did not approve of their sometimes militaristic approach, but as time passed I realised that my concept of non-aggression was extremely naive, to say the least. In protecting me many a time, they have taught me that to defend others against dangers, you must take up arms at a certain point. This reminds me of the story that I heard when I was a child, that when our Lord saw innocent children being abused by slavers, His wrath was great and terrible; and He saw to it that the monks of that holy order, the Yellow Rose, delivered the children from their needless suffering. I will not give up finding peaceful solutions, however - force must always be the last recourse. So it is with them, that I strive to repay a spiritual debt by giving them my assistance as a healer whenever possible.
Do give my regards to Mother Juilena, and perhaps I might drop by before autumn! I will write you if I am coming.
_Yours,
in the service of Ilmater and St Rhynda's,
Elena.P.S. We're engaged! (Thierulf and Me!)_