Part One: Chapter four ~Dark Plans~

Well, this is the shortest chapter i've ever written..ahah, but it was really fun. Enjoy some evilness..

jeska

Sletheyon slammed the table and destroyed the servant with one swipe of jaharah. “Stupid, clumsy!” he screeched. He slammed the table again and raised his hand, sending bolts of jaharah at different items, destroying them immediately.

“Ma-a-a-a-a-as-s-ter.” Pelgoin stood at the door shaking as if he was in an earthquake. Sletheyon chuckled softly, a sound that made Pelgoin tremble even more.

“Pelgoin, Pelgoin.” He spread out his black, robed arms, walking over to the door where Pelgoin was trembling like a leaf. He grabbed his shoulders and Pelgoin shrank back whimpering. “Can you tell me why that stupid, idiotic spy got killed on duty? Can you tell me why our other spies can’t figure out who killed him? And what he had to report? WHO KILLED HIM!!?” Sletheyon chucked Pelgoin at the window. It shattered and Pelgoin fell through screaming. Sletheyon calmly moved to the window, smashing pieces of glass under his feet. He looked down at the falling Pelgoin. He would need him later. He put out his hand and Pelgoin stopped his decent to the ground and began coming up. When he was at eye level, Sletheyon grabbed him and pulled him in. He was as white as a sheet and was limp and trembling.

“Than-k-k-k y-y-o-ou m-mas-t-ter,” he stammered.

Sletheyon threw him on the floor.

“You had better fix it now, and while you’re at it, find out if the wolf-spy found what it was looking for. If it’s true the princess is back, I want all girls her age captured and examined.” He glared at Pelgoin. Inside Sletheyon’s emotions boiled. He had thought he had been ride of the stupid girl a long time ago.

He whimpered and muttered a “yes my lord” and limped out, looking behind him all the way. Sletheyon laughed bitterly at memories of his own. A little pink face, dark black curls, yes, he remembered. Soon the little princess would come here, and soon he would capture her, and soon he would kill her! Revenge at last….

Part 1: Chapter three ~Secrets and Lighting~

okay guys, third chapter, and yet another character. This is one of my favorite chapters, i put a lot of my family into this one. I'm sorry if it's a little confusing...i'm working out the kinks. Also, i need to say, thank you Sandra P. for your help with ideas for this one!

jeska

Tayon sat starring at his jagged reflection in a small pool that was formed by water, dripping continually from the orange cliffs. He was under the shadow of a overhanging of white streaked red rock. Its sides were broken and bumpy from water gliding down its surface.

He carelessly flipped a small dagger over and under his fingers. His thoughts were directed to only one thing. Something was going to happen. The problem was that he didn’t know what. He was a sencer. It was his gift, passed on from his mother.

His mom was a sencer, like him, but she did not have as strong of a power ring to hold jaharah as him.

He still remembered his gift ceremony. How proud he had been to receive one of the rarest gifts in the elf race. But it was expected. His whole family was seeped in rare gifts, every one of them a novelty of their own. That was the reason that his family was now exiles. People with power, didn’t like strong gifts, and a whole family of rare gifts was a huge threat to them. This, of course, was not true. Tayon’s family was quite peaceful and only used their gifts for others. Still though, they had been hated.

So, Tayon’s family had been forced to flee into the mountains, going away from their home, the castle and fortress of Glodrian.

His father was a seer. He saw the past, present and future. He was the only one left on Baldemoore with the gift. Tayon though, suspected his youngest brother might have the gift.

His father had been on a trip when guards of the Glodrian elf clan had captured him. Tayon had been planning to go after him for some time hoping to rescue him. He had not yet told his family, fearing they would not let him go, but he knew that he would have to tell them soon.

He and his family were elves. He had a fenter to show it too. The fenters of an elf were given at the age of fourteen. They showed what clan they were from, and it also gave them more power and a way to direct and control the power of jaharah. It also was the foundation of their gift. Tayon’s fenter was of course the type of the Glodrian elves. His was small, dark black and very useful when it came to summoning his jaharah.

There were two other clans of elves. The Glodrian elves had a dark, black oval for their fenter. They were evil elves in search of power. Well, they had been good, but ever since Sletheyon had taken over…it was a place you didn’t want to go in a hurry.

The elves of Glodrian had joined forces with the dark king and were his spies and basically his servants. They had allowed him to rip up their forests and build a stone castle. It was so against an elf’s nature that sometimes Tayon himself didn’t believe what had happened to his people.

Then there were the Aletheaon elves. They were a quite, wise race of elves full of mystery and powerful jaharah. They had white, murky fenters that were diamond shaped, with four small circles on each point.

The Lydron elves had red fenters with white small circles circling around its triangle shape. They were a wild, fast passed race that barely breathed without speaking. They were slender in build and only the size of a small child. They stayed hidden in their huge forest, blocking out anything unpleasant. If one got lost in their forest, Raporen, they would never be seen again. They had a very small power ring to hold jaharah in, due to their small fenters.

Tayon hit the surface of the water, breaking its calm and scattering his reflection. He had golden eyes with dark and light blue specks in the middle and at the very center around the pupil was a line of purple. He was tall for his age and was somewhat lanky. His hair fell down in long brownish blond locks, and it often got in his eyes.

His other brothers (there was four of them) all had the same blond hair except not as shaggy. They all inherited their mothers white hair.

A rustle in the bushes on top of one of the many cliffs awoke him from his daze. He spun around, expertly flipping his dagger exactly into the huge brush. His dagger hit its mark all right, but it made a tiny “tink” noise and bounced back. Tayon jumped to the side of the small cave to avoid the returning dagger. It safely sunk into the side of the soft rock cliff.

The bush rustled again and then a medium sized dragon leaped out of its foliage. It was Valk, short for Volcanic Wave. His youngest brother had named him after his ruby red scales and piercing eyes and Tayon hadn’t bothered to change the childish name after it had stuck.

Valk shrieked in protest, wings erect and standing straight up, his gleaming, white fangs bared. He reminded Tayon of a hissing cat.

“Sorry Valk. Didn’t know it was you. I’ve always got to be careful about stuff. After all, who knows what’s lurking about. Anyways, is it time for dinner?”

Valk nodded his skinny delicate head; he was probably holding a grudge. He hated anyone scratching his scales, and he much less liked someone throwing a dagger at him.

Valk was the prettiest dragon Tayon had ever seen. Actually, he was the only one he had seen, at least up close. He had seen other dragons from a distance, but they were just colorful blurs. Valk’s scales were a dark, blood-colored red. They shined like stars when sunlight glanced off them. He was also the vainest creature that Tayon had ever met.

He was small for a dragon, but he was not full-grown. His shoulder stood barely below the start of Valk’s massive wings. He had grown a lot in the past few months. His soft underbelly was a fiery orange; his eyes were orange, too, giving him a powerful look. The spicks on his head were black, and his wings were a dull red. Valk stared at him in impatience, or rather, an expression that looked a lot like impatience.

“One minute. I’m trying to figure something out….” He lay back against the tree, closed his eyes. He heard Valk turn and head back. “Meet you later,” he said. All he got in response was a snort, which was enough for Tayon.

He let his mind wander. It was something he practiced frequently. Most elves could touch other minds, but only at close range. Because he had the gift of a sencer, he could do so much more.

He was really tired from working the fields today... He let go of his whole mind, letting it wander farther and farther away. He felt many emotions all at once. People had very many emotions.

Then he felt a big wave of emotion. It was so far away he couldn’t figure out where it had come from…not yet at least. Who was it? What were they feeling? He let his mind wander more, trying to grasp the feeling. All of a sudden, he found it. It was definitely not what he expected.

He pulled back, but it was too late. He was deep in it and it wouldn’t let go. Then the emotion swept over him. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was full of hate, death and absolute horror. He had never felt anything like it before. He tried pulling his mind back, but it was too strong. Then he felt something push into the corner of his mind. He let it in but only because of his reflexes. Automatically, he felt another stronger presence in his mind. It pulled him, and he felt his mind break through, and he came back from his daze. His eyes snapped open. Valk sat starring over him, his orange eyes flashing.

“What happened? That presence, did you feel it?”

Valk nodded. His eyes had fear in them. That’s what stopped Tayon dead. Valk wasn’t afraid of anything.

“Let’s go,” Tayon said quickly. Valk shook his head I will meet you later…there’s something I want to see. His voice was like thunder in Tayon’s head.

Valk’s wings snapped open and Tayon was thrown back as the great red wings powerfully thrust against the wind. Valk lifted off, shoving billows of air in Tayon’s face. I should be used to that by now, Tayon thought. He had gotten Valk about nine months ago. Though it had seemed like years.

Tayon had found Valk in an abandoned cave. What had ever become of his parents was unknown, and even Valk knew nothing of it. Tayon had brought him home and had cared for him. Now he and Valk had developed a very close relationship. As Valk left, Tayon felt lonely. He still felt the cold of whatever he had felt seconds before. He stood up, stretching. He would have to head back for dinner. His thoughts though, were on the presence he had felt. What if it had something to do with his Father? Now he knew that he should take his plan into action.

“Somethin’ on yer’ mind?” a cold voice said behind him. Tayon whipped around, pulling his dagger out of the wall beside him as he went. He immediately moved his dagger to his opponent’s throat.

A tall lean figure stood in front of him. Dark, long blonde hair fell down below his ears. The boy’s laughing gray eyes stared into his. It was his twin brother.

“Tearck, you, you ughh!! You scared me half to death! What would mother do if she knew you were running around imitating those fowlgers?” Tayon glared at his brother, his heart racing.

Tearck grinned. “Nothin’ to worry ‘bout. Ma already knows an’ I’ve already foun’ out what she’d du.” He grinned again.

“Stop talking like that! It makes my skin crawl. Now, what do you mean Mom already knows? Oh, you didn’t do that freaky accent to Mother, did you? You know how much she hates them!”

“I did.” Tearck roared with laughter. He only had two volumes, loud, and louder. “You should have seen her face. She almost killed me. That’s why I brought my sword with me so I wouldn’t be killed by you.” Tayon glanced jealously at Tearck’s waist where his sword hung. “Now, would you mind taking yer dagger away from my precious throat?” Tearck said, still smirking.

“You’re so childish!” Tayon spat as he removed his dagger.

“Oh, I’m insulted!” Tearck cried in horror and grabbed his chest. Then he laughed and punched Tayon’s shoulder. “Come one little guy, your life would be boring without me…” he winked at him. Tayon rolled his eyes, boring would be welcome.

“A huh, whatever” Tearck grinned at that but didn’t answer.

They walked back in silence, keeping to their own thoughts. Tearck usually talked non-stop every second of the day. He was silent this time though. Maybe his fat brain realized that I need the silence to think, thought Tayon, smiling to himself.

Tayon wondered where Valk had gone and what he had wanted to see. They came to a small cliff where moss and plants twirled up the rock face. Tayon moved to where a small lever of rock jutted out. He touched it gingerly with his jaharah hand and whispered, “Allahaira,” and the lever creaked down and a small opening appeared in the cliff as a wall of rock lifted up to reveal a small cave.

They walked in and the wall slid shut. They walked down the long cave till they came to a door. Tearck turned the handle and opened it. Unlike the dim wet cave behind them, the room shone with a bright, illuminating light.

It was bright and cheery; it was home to the two boys.

A small carved, wooden table stood in the center of the large kitchen. Beautiful carvings of dishoras and dragons decorated the table legs.

A tall girl about twelve with long blond hair that curled at the ends stood singing by a sink that had been carved out of the rock wall. She had on a blue apron that matched her eyes.

She had a pretty tan face that was pixie-like with high cheek bones and a small nose. Her hair shone in the dancing light of the many candles around her. The room was brightly illuminated by blue and red candles that made the air feel magical. The girl didn’t notice them and began singing another verse.

Along the ocean shore ’ll be waiting for you

you come home from the darkness

and return to the light

I’ll be there at you side

Come home Talaray

It was an old song about soldiers coming home from the war. Her voice was beautiful. Tayon felt proud of his sister’s voice, happy that she enjoyed singing so much.

She stopped singing as she noticed the boys standing at the doorway and danced over, her eyes laughing and fingers still wet.

“Hey boys, where’ve you been? Oh by the way, Mom is still furious at you for scaring her so if I were you I’d check the dinner bowl for poison.” She said with a giggle, directing the last bit to Tearck, who grinned in spite of himself.

“Oh wow, really? Who would have thought? By the way, Robyn, when was the last time I gave you a right tickling?” He grinned and Robyn screamed and ran for the living room as Tearck ran after her, bringing her to the ground tickling her unmercifully. She screamed and laughed uncontrollably.

“Stop, stop!” she squeaked through snorts and giggles. Tayon laughed and egged each of them on at turns. Tearck finally with a sigh as if what he was going to do was against his better judgment, stopped tickling her and stood up. Robyn shakily stood, gasping for breath.

“You…are so mean, Tearck! You know how…how…ticklish I am. I won’t be the same for weeks.” She put on a pretend pout and narrowed her eyes but the effect was ruined by her heaving chest and dancing eyes.

Tearck laughed at her attempts and punched her playfully. “Oh, come on. I’m yer big bro and my job is to tease you. What would you do without me? I’m sure Tay would never tickle you, just ask you to spar with him,” he said winking, looking over at Tayon, who was holding his side from laughing and was still snorting with laughter. Actually, he had spent the morning teasing his sister also.

Robyn, going a long with the joke, pushed Tearck in the chest.

“That’s because he’s normal. Sparring is fun for both of the people; tickling is only fun for the tickler. Tayon is definitely a much nicer brother than you could ever be.” She said grinning. Tearck put on a pretend pout.

“Aahh, now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings. Tay teases you too.”

“What’s the racket about Robyn? Is dinner ready?” A tall woman, Mirasha, said entering the kitchen.

“Hello, Mother,” Tearck said very seriously. The ends of his mouth twitched as he resisted smiling.

“Oh, it’s you two. My little troublemakers. Should have known it would be you,” the woman said, giving away a hint of a smile.

Tearck grinned bashfully. “Sorry about earlier today Ma, just wanted to have some fun. I didn’t mean to upset you none.”

She smiled. “That’s what I was guessing. Oh well, no harm done. Let’s have dinner. I’m starved.” She called in the rest of the family and they sat down to a small meal of roasted deer meat.

They ate in silence and Tayon knew he had to talk about his plans soon. The words were itching to come out and he reluctantly relented.

“Um, I have been thinking.” Tayon blurted out. The silence, if possible went quieter.

“Oh no, watch out guys, Tay has been thinking.” His older, black-haired sister Lila said grinning. Tayon stuck out his tongue then meet her teasing gaze with a solemn expression and the laughter on her lips died and faded. “Sorry,” she whispered looking at him curiously. Tayon nodded and went on.

“Ever since Dad…ah…left us, I have been thinking that we should go after him.” Tayon gathered his courage and plunged on. “Now that I’m seventeen, I thought it would be best if I could go.”

Mirasha, his mother, started to speak, but Tayon cut her off.

“I know that you do not want me to go, but I will go whether you wish me to or not.” His words pained him, but he stood straighter and stared back into his mother’s eyes.

Mirasha softly shook her head and spoke in a deadly whisper.

“No, I knew that you were planning it for quite some time, and I have come to realize what this means to you: but I can’t let you go” Tayon was not surprised that she could feel that he wanted to go, for like him, she was a sencer. But she didn’t understand! He had to go get father! He missed him so badly.

“Mother I’m going and whether you like it or not I will leave tomorrow at day break.” He stood up, trying not to look at his siblings’ faces.

“You will not go! I forbade it! I’ve already lost my husband and I refuse to lose another member of my family!” she stood slamming the table with her fists. “Ever since those awful creatures caught your father while he was out I’ve never been the same! That tore me apart Tayon! I will not let any more pain come to my heart! I will not!” Sparks danced in her eyes and she looked fiercer then he had ever seen before. Tayon backed down for just a moment then continued his part of the fight.

“If I don’t go then we might never see him again! Honestly Mother you should see this as plainly as I do!”

“I don’t see how sacrificing one of my sons to get him is sensible! And Kendora help me I will not lose you!” she raged.

“Mother, you can’t stop me, I’m going!” his voice was at a calm but deadly whisper. Without waiting for a response he left the room.

He ran down the barely lit hallway and entered his room.

There was clothes sprayed out on the floor and he channeled his emotions into picking them up.

After everything was picked up, he sat down on his bed, deep in thought. He stood and went over to his small dresser and pulled open a bottom drawer and pulled out a large rolled up bit of parchment. It was a map of Baldemoore.

He looked at the large sea labeled ‘Untillack sea’ and found the small mountains drawn by its shore and found his home.

He would have to travel to the Oxedoun river then travel up its bank to avoid the Land of the Mists, till he came to the small forest surrounding the city of Glodrian, the place where his father had been taken. He would travel though the forest then raid the city at night and find his father and help him escape. He didn’t know exactly how he was going to do that part, but he had weeks of travel to think on a good plan. He only hoped he would not be discovered.

A small knock echoed into his thoughts and he looked up.

“Come in,” he said, hoping that they weren’t here to pick a fight about him going. The door opened. It was Tearck.

“I brought you something for your, well, travels.” He walked over to where Tayon was sitting. He sat down on the bed, and it creaked in a familiar way.

“Aren’t you mad at me for going?”

“No, and yes. I really wanted to be the one to go, I’m a whole five minutes older then you, you know. I was kinda wishin’ I could be the one to die or something for dad to return, but that’s nonsense. Plus I have something else I need to get done…well, that’s important….” He coughed and looked pretty guilty to Tayon. “Anyways, I’ve had some time to think about it and I’ve gotten used to the idea. Most of us have, Tayon, Mother is not the only one who knew about you wanting to go.”

“First, you will, might, have some problems on the way. I have been meaning to give this to you for awhile.” Tearck took a scabbard out from behind his back. It was made of hard, black leather with fine designs around the sides.

Tayon took it and grasped the hilt, lifted the sword out and held it tight. The hilt felt perfect in his hand. He held it in both hands and examined it. It was beautiful, made of metal with polished jewels embedded into the sides. It was much fancier then any sword he had ever seen. He felt like an Elvin lord, protecting his TreeHold against a terrible enemy.

He slowly stood and held the sword out. He weighted it and flipped it around, swinging it from side to side doing several moves he had learned from Tearck and his father. It was not only the best sword he had ever seen, but the best one he had ever held. Tearck really lived up to his gift of binding.

“Tearck, where did you find the materials to do this? Why….”

Tearck held up his hand to silence him. He looked pleased. “Let’s just say I found some around,” he said, grinning at his cleverness.

“Going to stay anonymous, eh?” Tayon snorted as Tearck laughed.

“Do you like it?” Tearck asked. It was Tayon’s turn to laugh.

“Like it! I love it. It’s . . . perfect.”

Tearck grinned on the word perfect.

“Good to hear it.” He paused while Tayon slide his sword back into its case. “Now I will give you your second gift.” He grinned wider as Tayon’s eyes got slightly larger. He reached into his pocket, bringing out a small rectangle box, which he handed it to Tayon.

“Open it.”

“No, I really can’t except anything else this is really too much and….” Tearck silenced him with a glare.

“Just open it stupid.” So Tayon gingerly opened the lid and revealed a small bottle with a yellow, semi-liquid substance inside. It was connected to a small silver chain.

“Um…its great Tearck…I always wanted a bottle…?” Tayon turned towards Tearck, confusion written all over his face. Tearck laughed and punched him.

“Not just a bottle idiot, here, I can’t explain it, so pour it on the arm that you burned yesterday and it will satisfy your question. Careful though, only one drop.” Tearck nodded towards his arm. He had burned it while trying to put out a fire that Valk had accidentally set while they were playing a fire game that they had made. The wind had caught one of the flames and had blown it into the trees. Tayon, in his rush to put out the fire, got his arm stuck in the flames a little too long.

He looked down at his blistered arm and opened the small metal top of the small jar. A sickening smell engulfed him, and he coughed, holding it away from him.

“Strong smelling, isn’t it?” Tearck chimed. Tayon could only manage a nod. What would this rotten smelling thing do to him? He hesitantly reached out his arm, expecting the worst and turned it slightly upside down letting one drop fall from the jar then lifted it back up.

The small drop dripped slowly to his arm. It was moving slower than a snail, dropping millimeter by millimeter. It began to spread out, getting thinner and longer. It began to change colors, going into every color and finally settling on the color green. It finally touched his injured arm and automatically covered his whole burn. It felt soft, squishy and jelly like. His burn began to itch, but he could not touch the strange blob.

What was it doing? He wondered. Tayon sat there for several minutes until the green goo evaporated slowly, revealing his arm. The last of the green stuff disappeared and Tayon sat in wonder. He softly touched his skin. It was soft and perfect. His burn was gone and there was no trace of a scar. He turned his hand and arm over and over again. He looked over to Tearck.

“Where? How?” he said and Tearck laughed.

“I made the bottle. Nothing can break it our melt it. Robyn and Lila made the potion, and Joeick added a couple of spells to help it out.” Joeick was there older brother and was the only one who had the gift of jaharah. His gift was that he could handle his jaharah completely and very well, good enough to cast very big spells.

“Thanks, but the thing I don’t understand is how you knew I was going? This kind of stuff could take years to make, not days.” Tearck smiled.

“Well, when mom started getting anxious and kept asking where you were we figured she had sensed something.” He looked at Tayon, waiting for him to respond.

He screwed the lid on the bottle and put the chain around his neck. The bottle disappeared into his shirt. “Will it heal everythi…?”

“Yes,” Tearck cut him off. “The deeper the cuts and worse the burn, the longer it will take to heal, but it will heal anything. Except heartbreak, you’re going to have to deal with that one on your own.” Tearck said laughing

Tayon ignored his brother and gazed down at the small bottle. Tearck tapped him on the head and Tayon looked up quickly.

“Use it sparingly. This is all you have, and we can’t make anymore. This stuff is not the easiest thing to make.”

“I will. But, man, this is awesome! How did you do this…? What at can I do to repay you guys?” Tearck was quiet for several minutes.

“Bring father home safely and you will more then repay us.” Tayon nodded and softly whispered,

“I will try.”

Tearck scowled at him. “I can’t believe your leaving me behind though.” Tayon smiled at that.

“Why would I want you along on the ride? There’s no honor in being talked to death.” Tearck rolled his eyes. “I wish you could come though.” Tayon added. Tearck seemed pleased with that.

“You mean it?” he asked serious.

“Yeah, I mean it” Tearck nodded then stood up and left, the door softly closing behind him. Tayon sat there for quite some time studying his sword the map while peeking at the bottle every few minutes. He finally took his eyes off them and started packing. He shoved his clothes in the bag and carefully rolled up the map and set it on his bag. What would happen? He wondered as he lay down in his bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.

He woke slightly before dawn after a restless sleep. His eyes wandered over to his desk and the two gifts that lay on it. He sat up, his covers sliding of his chest. He rubbed his tired eyes and stretched, yawning. It was still a couple hours before he wanted to leave.

He grabbed a shirt from the open drawer in his desk and quickly slipped it over his head. He ran his fingers through his long hair thoughtfully. He walked back over to his bed and stared at the objects that lay beside it.

He picked up the bottle, and then slid the necklace over his head. The chain was cold around his bare neck and he played with the bottle thoughtfully.

Frowning, he decided he needed someone to talk to. He needed someone to give him some courage to actually leave. Slipping out of his room and the dark corridors of his home he walked quickly past him mother’s room then his two sisters. Finally he reached the door he wanted and knocked softly. There was no answer and Tayon found that strange. His brother was always up early.

He opened the door, peaking in. The bed was unmade with its covers on the floor, but it held no Tearck. He stuck his head in further and his dark brow furrowed in disbelief. There was a crack in the wall right behind Tearck’s dresser. Tayon walked in and with some effort slide the dresser away from the wall, revealing a dark passage.

He stared dumbfounded at the hidden door. Suddenly he saw a torch light appear further down the long tunnel and backed away, sliding the dresser back to where it was. He ran out of the room, but kept it slightly open so he could see who emerged.

It was Tearck, looking troubled and holding a torch in one hand and a large book in the other. Tearck quickly slide the dresser back to its original position, hiding the secret tunnel. Tayon shut the door the rest of the way and leaned against the wall.

He couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. Tearck never kept secrets, especially form his twin brother. So how come he had kept this one? What was he doing back there anyways? Feeling curious and slightly agitated Tayon knocked on Tearck’s door. A slight shuffling could be heard from inside, the sound of ruffling papers.

“Come in” Tayon opened the door and walked in to see his brother sitting on his bed, looking exactly like he had just gotten up.

“What’s up Tayon? Bad night?” Tearck asked innocently.

“Yeah, I just wanted to come and…ah…thank you again for my presents. They’re really great.” Tayon tried to give a real smile to his brother, but wanted to frown as he saw his brother get a guilty look in his eyes.

“No problem, just wanted to help. Anything else?”

“Guess not...sorry, I’ll go finish packing.” And with that Tayon walked quickly out and back to his own room. He needed some time to think about what he had just seen.

Tayon stared unhappily into the sad eyes of his family. He was clutching his sword and fiddling with his bottle, which was around his neck. Robyn stepped forward and hugged him tightly. She stared down at the ground and a part of Tayon’s heart throbbed for her and wished that he wouldn’t have chosen this direction and would have chosen to stay home with his family. She had always been his little sister. She had always sparred with him and was unusually always happy.

One by one, the members of his family came and said goodbye.

He thanked them for their gifts. They seemed very pleased that he liked the potion.

He felt slightly awkward when he came to Tearck, but as his twin gave him a big bear hug and smiled Tayon decided that he should put the incident he saw that morning out of his head. Tearck obviously had a secret and if it was important enough to be kept from him then he would honor it.

“Be safe little guy,” Tearck said as they parted. Tayon rolled his eyes back at him.

“You’re only a couple minutes my elder so I wouldn’t count on it to diminish my status in life…” he winked as Tearck rolled his eyes, and then moved on. He said his last goodbye to all of his siblings and then backed up.

Startling everyone, the stone door slid back behind his siblings and his mother stepped out.

Tears rimmed her eyes, and for the first time, he realized that this was a dangerous task that he had chosen to do. He might not return. He might die or worse, be tortured by Glodrian elves if he were to be captured. She walked stiffly over to him.

He took his hand away from his sword, which he had decided to call Zoneag, and cupped his hand around his mother’s chin and gently lifted her head up. He hadn’t realized how much taller he was then her.

“You know I still don’t want you to go.” She whispered.

“I know, don’t worry about me. I’ll come back safely with father.” His voice sounded fake even to him. He forced his mouth into a smile and forced back tears. Seventeen-year-olds don’t cry, he thought, widening his eyes to stop the tears. His mother smiled, but her smile matched his, forced.

She handed him the bag that she had been holding. He took it and opened it. It was full of traveler’s food and eating utensils. He smiled.

“Thank you, kind lady. I will use it sparingly.” He bowed and kissed her hand. She snorted then smiled back.

“You’re just like you father, charming when you want to be but horrid when you don’t want to be.”

“Horrid? When have I been horrid?” he asked teasingly. She ignored his comment and stepped back.

“Be careful and try to bring back your father, without getting you both killed. I love you, remember that. I will check up on you with my gift every day,” she said and hesitantly stepped back.

A roar came from above him, and he looked up to see Valk circling above him. The sun glinted as he passed overhead and a bright hallo encircled him as he flew under the sun’s glare. He slowly descended and landed gracefully on the ground. Dragons were the most graceful creatures ever to live in Tayon’s opinion. Their sure size did not stop them from being as graceful as a ballet dancer. Tayon rolled his eyes at his friend. Always showing off now aren’t we? He asked Valk using their mind connection. Valk just purred deeply back.

Tayon walked over to him and stroked his delicate, scale-less head.

“Goodbye,” he called to his family. He felt depressed and wished this wasn’t really happening and that his father was still here.

He glanced up and gazed one last time on his family and home then turned and walked away. Valk followed him through the trees till they reached the end of the small forest and stood gazing up at a rocky cliff.

“Time to ride,” he said. Valk came up to his side, and Tayon jumped of the short cliff and spent fast seconds in a free fall before Valk slide below him and he landed hard on Valk’s back. He arranged his legs around Valk’s strong wings and then held on tight to the spikes in front of him.

Valk spread his large wings and flapped them furiously. Dust billowed up as he struggled to gain altitude.

Then they were off, soaring into the sapphire sky. They soared through the clouds, wind whipped lazily at his clothes and hair.

Tayon let his mind wander into Valk’s, and he quickly became aware of the wind thermals the clouds brushing against his skin. He pulled his mind back into his body and howled into the air like a crazed werewolf. Valk joined in and his roaring vibrated the air making Tayon laugh.

He always loved flying. It made him forget his worries and made him feel free. They rode far into the day and marveled over the beautiful sunset.

“Let’s head down for tonight,” he shouted over the roaring wind. Valk tipped and went into a spectacular dive and pulled up just at the last second, gliding through the green grass that lined the ground in the small canyon.

They made camp in a large cave. Valk left for awhile and came back with a mountain sheep in his jaws. They roasted the meat and ate it along with several vegetables that his mother had supplied.

After dinner, Tayon pulled out his map and checked the distance they had traveled. They had covered most of the mountains that surrounded his home and were only a couple of miles away from where the mountains turned into hills the flat valleys. Thanks to Valk, this would be the easiest journey he had ever taken.

About two more days and he would reach the Oxedoun River and turn north and follow its banks till he reached the Glodrian forest, the border of the Glodrian elves.

He was forced to take this longer route because of the dangers of going through thousands of miles of mountains, and the lands of the mists. Each place was lurking with terrible creatures, the worst were the fowlgers.

Fowlgers were evil twisted men. Half dwarf, half everything else that was evil. They had the shape of a human, but they had horns protruding out of their foreheads and long greasy hair covered most of their bodies. They had fangs where normal teeth were supposed to be, and small black wings grew out of their backs. They spoke English but cut the words. Nothing, would be nothin’ and don’t would be dun’.

They were the ones who had taken his father. They worked for Sletheyon, an evil traitor that had been trying to take over Baldemoore for years. His mother had a deep and everlasting hatred for them because of what they had done with her husband.

So he had to go through as few mountains as possible and go through the plains until he got to the river. He would follow that then go through the forest till he got to Glodrian city. After that, he really didn’t know what.

His father had been a nice man. Serious but he still had a touch of humor in everything he said, well, most of what he said. Just like him. He had been the one who had taught him how to fight with a sword. They had spent many nights under the stars talking about almost everything. Most of Tayon’s magic skills had come from him. He remembered learning how to shoot with a bow and arrow. They had carved a target into a large oak by their house and had practiced until he had it perfectly. Tayon smiled at the memories but at the same time they made him sad. He missed his Father so much it hurt. He was going to get him back, he really was.

They traveled for about two days. At sunset on the second day, Tayon and Valk sat on the many vast plains in which they had been traveling for the last day and a half.

He leaned against a lone boulder and stared into the distance. The blue, pink and orange clouds gave the sky a beautiful, majestic look to the world. The sun cast long shadows and gave a pink tint to everything. He saw the Oxedoun River that was about five miles away. It shone with the reflection of the sky, making it look like pinkish fire.

The forest behind it spread out for miles. It seemed dark but welcoming at the same time. It looked like someone had spread out a dark green bushy cloth over that part of the world. He thought he caught a glimpse of a dishora between the branches, but it disappeared just as soon as it came.

It was so peaceful. Tayon let his guard down and let his senses fall. Maybe he could find a useful thought about his father. or better yet he might find his father’s mind. Why hadn’t he done this before? His mind opened all the way.

Automatically, he felt the feelings of many other people and things around. His mind traveled far over the land and through the forests and lakes of Baldemoore.

His mind touched the sharp edges of an animal’s mind, and with some push, he went in. It was a dishora. He pushed farther into his thoughts and feelings. They were complicated. He seemed to be afraid and mad. He wrapped his mind around its mind and comforted it and sent some courage into his feelings. Automatically, the dishora’s thoughts changed and it filled with madness.

He pulled out and searched for what was scaring the creature. He wasn’t that good at moving his mind at a distance. He felt like he was walking through a pitch dark cavern when he finally felt something ahead of him. He was automatically filled with a strange feeling like he had just done something unspeakable. He pulled away, but the mind grabbed onto him, just like before. It pulled him in deep and he was enveloped with a deep, dark, evil feeling. It was like the time at the pool all over again. He felt himself freeze inside and he pulled away with all his strength. He felt his mind snap back into his head and his eyes snapped open.

He was breathing hard and he slipped to the ground, feeling queasy. He rubbed his arms. He still felt frozen, and goose bumps covered his skin. Something was wrong. What was the thing? He had felt it now two times. He had to go figure out what it was. Whatever it was, it was defiantly bad and could cause destruction to everything.

He shook his head trying to shake off that feeling. Suddenly, Valk was at his shoulder. He nudged him and warmth seeped through him. He sat there with Valk for several long minutes. After he felt a little better, he stood, using Valk as a support. He walked over to the bags, but then he stopped. Something was happening. Something was pulling on his strong magic ring that held his powers. It felt weird, like someone was pulling at something in him that they weren’t supposed to be touching.

It was a strange feeling and he froze, wondering what it was. His shaggy blond hair whipped back. A strong wind had suddenly started.

He braced himself against the ever-pulling wind. Then the tug on his power ring stopped and he was filled with sudden warmth. He felt his eyes roll and everything went black but not quite.

A small picture filled his mind. It was of a girl, lying on a grass-covered terrain. Her skin was tan and smooth. Her hair was jet-black and fell over her shoulders, shining in the sun. As the vision cleared, he saw that cuts and scrapes lined her arms. A look of pain and surprise was on her sleeping face. The vision faded and soon he opened his eyes. Then a sudden deep woman’s voice filled his head.

Help her

“Who was that?” he wondered aloud. Her face was branded into his mind. Then that voice…it was so commanding. He had to go find out why he had this vision and what the evil thing was that he sensed. He had to help that girl, it was almost like he had no choice.

He ran over to the bags and stuffed them back in the traveling bag and called to Valk. He came over and Tayon jumped into his saddle. Valk flipped his head around and starred at Tayon.

It is too windy; it is not safe to fly. Tayon ignored Valk’s words and tapped Valk in the side.

This is to important Valk! I have to find out what this is about. We need to get to Aletheaon fast! What if it has something to do with father? He thought back. Valk hesitated then flapped his great wings in earnest and they soared into the sky. The wind ripped at Tayon’s body and he felt Valk falter.

The sky lit up as a bolt of lightning struck just a couple yards away. Valk screeched and veered to the left.

This is a bad idea Tayon! Valk screeched.

They were over the river now and gliding over the forest. Tayon clutched one of the thicker spikes and hoped they wouldn’t get hit. The thunder pounded in his ears. Another flash and burning flesh filled his nose.

Valk cried out in surprised pain and dropped dangerously. Tayon looked through the rain and saw that Valk’s right wing had a large hole in it. Smoke was sizzling out of the large wound. His flesh was being eaten away. There was no way that he could continue to fly. The terrible smell almost knocked him out.

Valk’s left wing beat furiously to stop their fall. They dropped lower and lower till they fell through the canopy of the trees and sank to the ground. Tayon leapt from Valk’s back before they hit and rushed out of Valk’s way so he wouldn’t get tangled in his wings.

Valk touched the ground and his left wing went limp. Tayon ran to his side avoiding his wings. He checked to see if he was breathing. Yes, he was. He patted his head and walked over to the injured wing. This was entirely his fault! He knew it was dangerous to fly in storms! Now he had risked his friend’s health. Wait, Valk would not die, he had the potion!

The wind was a lot less strong down here and so was the rain, since it had to pass through the trees first.

He knelt down by the wing and lifted the necklace above his head and began unscrewing the lid. The liquid swished around in its case, and he carefully dropped two drops on the sides of the gapping wound.

They fell slowly just like before and spread until it was the size of the wound. It turned an electric yellow then touched the wound, covering it. Valk softly moaned as the liquid began to sizzle.

Tayon stood and began to make a make-shift tent over Valk’s still body. He laid branches out and filled in the cracks with mud and moss. Soon, a rather large log tent covered Valk.

Tayon crept under the makeshift roof and sat beside Valk. The liquid was still there, healing away.

He remembered Tearck telling him that the bigger and more complicated the wound, the longer it would take. He didn’t know how long it would take for Valk to heal, or how long it would take to get to Aletheaon from here. He sighed sleepily. Wherever they were, he would have to find that girl. Help her…the words bit into his conscience. Strangely though, what worried him most was that evil thing he kept feeling.

He lay down against Valk’s side and fell asleep, his thoughts turning into troubled dreams.

Part 1: Chapter Two ~Green Eyes~

Before you read this, i'm going to give you a little insight into my brain and how this book works. Chapters 1-5 are in Part One, which is my 'background' chapters. These are each story of my main character's lives before they meet each other. By doing this, I give you a chapter to see how they work and what makes them act the way they do. Don't worry, this does not take away any of the mysteriousness of some things. So keep in mind that these first couple chapters will be different stories within the main story. With chapter two, have fun with a life of a...well, you'll just have to read....ahha...

~jeska

Safyra’s breath came out in clouds of white. Her eyes shifted back and forth, her chest heaving. She was lost in her own home. The usually familiar pathways turned and twisted through the trees, as if trying to deceive her.

She cried out in desperation. Her stomach heaved and twisted in fear.

Up ahead she saw lights. It was the TreeHold, but something was wrong. The lights, usually so soft blinded her eyes.

She didn’t want to go there. Her whole body shied away from the large grove of trees, towering so high above her.

Yet she had to go on.

She didn’t know why, but she had this feeling that if she didn’t go something bad would happen. She needed to find someone, needed to so bad.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow move. She turned quickly, glaring hard into the dark underbrush; something was hiding in the mist.

Another flash of movement, then another made her twist and turn in fear.

She cried out as something hit her from behind, catching her of balance.

Black shapes flew around her, their hissing breath covering up her scream.

She jumped to her feet and ran. But she was running too slow. Each step took minutes, the effort to move draining her. It was as if she was running through thick water.

Finally she grabbed onto the railing of the staircase climbing up the tallest tree.

Her footsteps echoed loudly, but still she could hear the hissing shrieking noise, coming ever so closer.

She raced through doors, turning corners blindly. Nothing was where it should have been.

Each exotic bridge, connecting the huge trees together, seemed like a trap as she raced across.

Then suddenly she came to a huge metal door. It was black iron, sticking out hideously from the wood walls around her.

She clutched her aching side, the taste of blood in her mouth.

She reached for the door, knowing she had to go in.

That she had to go on.

But as her hand touched the cold metal she felt a shook go though her and pulled her hand quickly away, gasping with fear.

Suddenly, the walls around her seeming to be melting, the wood sliding down the walls, then disappearing into nothingness.

Finally, every feature of her home was stone and metal.

She was not in the TreeHold any more. Turning frantically around she looked down a hallway that seemed to go on forever. The hissing noise grew louder and she could make out shadows sliding across the walls.

Quickly she grabbed the handle and opened the door, shutting it behind her.

Suddenly, everything was quite. No more hissing, not even the sound of her racing heart.

A scream crashed against her ears, ruining the silence. At the sound, her heart cried out. She needed to help the girl screaming.

She had no idea who it was though.

She looked away from the door she had just come though and glanced despairingly at the dark hall before her, just like the one she had just escaped. Taking a shaky breath, she walked down the huge hall.

Each door she passed seemed to be watching her with cold, light green eyes.

Another scream echoed down the hall. Safyra longed to call out to the girl, but she couldn’t remember the person’s name.

Yet that scream belonged to a friend.

The person she was looking for.

Suddenly, a piercing light filled the almost black hall and out of the light stepped a woman.

She was tall, and fair. Her skin was very white, as if it hadn’t seen the sun in a very long time. Her long silver hair was a completely different shade from the darkness of the hall.

She was dressed simply in a green dress. Something was wrong though, a large red stain covered her chest.

The woman held out her hand and gestured towards Safyra.

Please come with me. I know how to help you the voice in her head was husky, but commanding. Safyra followed, yet her heart still beat furiously and the fear in her grew steadily. Something was wrong.

The woman walked quickly down the hallway, as if she was gliding. They finally came to a dark, blood red door.

The woman turned to look at Safyra, her eyes so sad.

Pointing to the door the woman gave Safyra one last smile.

“Help her.”

Safyra stared at her in confusion. But the woman’s eyes were so pleading that she reached forward to comfort her. Instead of flesh her hands flew through the woman’s body and with that she seemed to crumble, and was gone. Safyra stared openly shocked at her hands, wondering what had gone wrong. Even gone, the woman’s last words hung in the air, like thick drapes surrounding the elf. They echoed through Safyra’s whole being. She shuddered, closing her eyes for several seconds, trying to catch her bearing.

Safyra turned to open the door, but the handle disappeared just as her hand went to touch it.

She pulled away, annoyed, and as she did the handle reappeared. Desperately she tried again and again to open the door, but to no avail. Crying out in frustration Safyra slammed her fist into the door.

Then, with one last, desperate pound she felt herself fall into space.

She hit the ground hard and realized she’d fallen into the room on the other side of the red door.

The room was unbearably cold.

As she looked around, she realized she was not alone, but surrounded by black cloaked men. They were watching a figure, chained to the wall.

They were quite, as if they hadn’t felt her presence yet.

She quickly got to her knees and then slowly slid up the door behind her.

Her hands touched the door behind her, it was warm and wet, as if painted with blood. She felt her stomach twist and air cried out in her lungs, letting out a cry. She tried to muffle it quickly.

Too late, everything in the room had turned and was watching her with surprise.

She saw those harsh green eyes again and she felt her body quail.

Suddenly she was surrounded by the raspy breathing cloaks and she desperately tried to get away, to fight.

Her legs and arms moved unbearably slow, like she was drowning in molasses once again.

She knew she was doomed.

Then, suddenly the cloaks parted for a brief second and as her eyes began to haze over she got a last look at the figure chained to the wall.

Big, bright green eyes held her in a trance. It was those eyes, the ones that had been watching her, following her.

But they were different.

The girl’s black hair stood out painfully compared to her taunt white skin.

Yet even in such a sad starved state the girl was strong looking… there was something about her.

Then her view was taken away as the cloaked figures leaned down and the breath went from her lungs, their icy hands freezing her skin solid. She screamed trying to get away, twisting and turning out of their grip.

“Wake up WAKE UP!”

With a gasp Safyra’s eyes blinked open, letting in light and a face she knew well above her.

“Good, you’re awake” Kevyn’s voice rang in her aching ears. He looked down at her, his eyes concerned.

She pushed him back, sitting up from where she lay. Her back ached and she realized she had fallen asleep on one of the many wooden benches that lined the halls of Aletheaon’s TreeHold.

“Wha…” she mumbled reaching up and pushing her long silver hair out of her eyes. Sweat coated her arms and face, her clothes and hair damp. She looked up at Kevyn with questioning eyes.

“I just found you; you were making a big racket. Did you have a nightmare?” She nodded as the vivid clarity of her dream filled her mind, repeating over and over again.

He gave her a pitying smile and helped her stand up. She straitened her black dress quickly, feeling embarrassed.

Princesses did not fall asleep in hallways.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I fell asleep I just…” then she stopped, biting her lip angrily.

How come we were talking out loud? She snapped at him, their minds connecting for brief seconds as she talked to him with her mind.

He frowned at her, looking disappointed.

“Come on Safyra, what’s wrong with talking…” She cut him off quickly, putting her fingers to his lips. She eyed him angrily and he sighed.

Reaching up he gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her stiff hand down. He entwined his fingers with hers and reached over with his other hand to hold her cheek.

It’s been a long time since the accident Safyra; you need to start talking out loud more. He smiled his crooked smile at her but she ignored him.

Just let me have a little more time. He shook his head for a second then rolled his eyes.

Fine, as long as you’ll tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been so sad lately. Falling asleep on a bench isn’t exactly your style either. It’s not about the gift ceremony last month is it? You still haven’t talked about it…? He smiled to show he wasn’t pressing her.

She shrugged, heaving a big sigh. The gift ceremony. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes. She would never tell him what had happened, he wouldn’t believe it.

I’m Just worried about the war. She decided to answer, keeping her thought voice free of emotion. He nodded as if that was what he had suspected.

Well, why don’t you go for a walk, clear your mind a little. I’ll cover for you. She smiled and nodded, he always had good suggestions.

Will you come too? She hid the emotions she was feeling from her thoughts. He gazed down at her perplexed, and then shook his head.

My mother needs to go check on the lighting system of the TreeHold; I thought I would help her. Safyra felt herself jerk at his last two words.

“Help her…” she murmured, not caring that she had spoken out loud. A pale face framed with long black hair flashed in her mind and she shivered. Those words help her, help her, rang in her head and she pressed one of her fingers to her temples, trying to ride her mind of that haunting voice. Kevyn let her hand go and reached out for her arms but she brushed him away, wondering if he had seen into her mind.

You’re right, I need to go clear my mind, I will return later. She quickly rushed out of the room, feeling Kevyn’s questioning eyes on her back. But she had no time or patience for explaining something that didn’t even make sense to her.

It was a relief to walk though the hallways, that, unlike in her dream, were in the right places.

The Aletheaon TreeHold was a beautiful place. She had lived there all her life, but it still was as beautiful as the first day.

The TreeHold was made up of the greatest trees in the forest, sercoras. Such huge trees were perfectly suited to hold such a great TreeHold as Aletheaon.

Their trunks were so large that you could easily fit a great dinning room into one. There were about forty trees that made up the whole Hold. Each one was connected by shinning silver bridges, which intersected with the spiral staircases that lined the trunks.

From far away the trees looked like silver had been inlaid into its bark, but up close, you saw that it was just the stairways, with little lines of sparkling light twirling in the branches over head.

All in all it’s had a soothing glow to it, and Safyra appreciated its calming influence.

She paused on the first steps leading down to the end of the tree, its roots making the floor of the forest look like it was rolling waves, caught in a painting.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The shredded sun that broke through the tree tops above her warmed her face. The rays glinted off her milky white fenter in the middle of her head. Her fenter was her magic source and symbol. It was received at an early age and helped focus a person’s magic. Inside, the stone clouds of magic rolled back and forth, as she used her magic ring. Or rather, her jaharah, as the elves called it. There was no such thing really as magic, which was the human’s make-believe fairytale.

Elves had a special place inside their chest called a jaharah. It grew as it was used and was the main source of power to the elves. Without the jaharah inside them, elves would have no power. Humans had no such place to store the “magic” in the air. So they worked and toiled to take their humble place in Baldemoore.

Even now she felt the constant small pull from her jaharah ring that told her the power in the TreeHold was still working. Everyone shared the load to make the power run in Aletheaon.

As she looked out into the forest around her, she felt sad, wondering when these great trees would be burned, just like the Glodrian elves had done to theirs.

Would her people turn evil too? Would Sletheyon be too much for them? Could she lead them along the right paths? The information from the gift ceremony had her so worried.

The thoughts of her home ruined strayed to her dream, and how the tree walls had turned to stone.

Had it been foreshadowing the future of her home? Yet the hallways had not corresponded at all with the inside of Glodrian’s castle.

She had been there when she was very little. Her Uncle, the king, had gone in hopes of changing the Glodrian’s minds. They had come with peace, but had been ambushed once they left.

Jayraysha, Safyra’s cousin, the heir of Aletheaon at the time, had been killed. She shied away from the memory of horror, but it seemed to tap at her mind.

Reminding her of her dream.

Those green eyes still haunted her. What had that lady-elf meant when she had asked her to ‘help her’? Safyra could not figure it out.

But as she kept staring out at the forest, she felt sure that that girl was out there somewhere.

Somewhere close.

What if she went to look?

The forest was not safe lately, spies had over-run the usually so peaceful grounds. She was not allowed to walk through the trees anymore.

But if she flew?

Without fully making her mind up, she began gliding down the descending stairs. Her black leather dress moved with her body as she continued down the steep stairs that wound around the trunk of the great sercora tree. Her light footsteps made no sound on the stairs. The only sound was that of the birds, singing to the sun deep in the forest. She took it as a good omen.

The people below her or above moved in silence, carrying out their daily tasks with few words said. Elves could speak through one another’s minds, making communication so much easier.

Why would one need words when you could communicate in silence?

A farm elf was climbing up the stairs towards her. She had never seen him before but recognized him as a farm elf by the particular leather he wore.

Unlike the dark black leather dress she wore, which signified royalty, he wore light tan leather, made from the skin of a sun-eared deer.

He bowed respectfully before he passed her. She nodded silently back. Honor and respect, that’s what they gave her. Did she deserve such praise? Could she give them a wonderful life without war?

The young elf reached the end of the stairs and the roots of the tree. She silently stepped onto the lush carpet of green. She felt the tiny drums of the grasses spirit through her soft-sole boots.

Safyra breathed in the clear air deeply and blew out. Kevyn was right; a walk was going to do her good. She felt more relaxed already, her mind clearing from almost all thoughts.

Looking rather guiltily back and forth, she made sure no one was watching and quickly ran to the huge cave stable.

The stable had been dug into one of the huge hills that split the forest. Its huge oak doors were open and the tangy smell of horses and dishoras reached her nose. She smiled at the familiar smell and the memories that came with it. Suddenly, she made up her mind to go searching in the forest. Even if she didn’t find the…well, the girl, it would be nice to go flying.

She walked through the doors and up and down the clean pathways that separated the many stalls. Her feet traced the familiar path to her dishora’s stall and she hummed a greeting song.

At once a black nose stuck out of the window and a piercing whinny echoed down the halls. She smiled and reached out a graceful hand and laid it on his nose.

“Bleaki Taeke” She murmured and was answered by a low nicker. Sliding her hand off his velvet nose, she pulled off the small leather bridal that hung by the stall door.

She moved into the stall and slipped the bridal over his huge head. She fastened the circular straps around his two silver horns. Her motions were graceful and precise.

She led Bleaki Taeke out and he stretched his bat-like wings, shaking them out.

He was quite large, and had huge leather wings that spread to the length of seventeen feet. Even in the huge stable aisles, he could not spread them out their full length. He had two deadly horns that protruded from his forehead and on the back of his thick neck like it was just one big horn, sticking through his body. His shoulder was higher than her head and he towered above her. His whole body glowed a dark, purplish black in the dim light. His muscles rippled under his coat as he frisked around. She shook his reins, reminding him that she was still there and in control.

The tame dishoras, like the ones they had in this stable, had their back horns shaved so only two inches of the actual horn showed. It was for safety precautions so they couldn’t accidentally stick the horn through their rider. She led him through the dark hallways until they reached the same oak doors she had passed through to get in.

As the clear air reached Bleaki’s flared nostrils he whinnied excitedly and pranced impatiently.

She smiled the first big smile she had had in months. His eagerness was contagious. Still, she touched his nose with her hand to silence him. She didn’t want anyone to come to investigate the loud whinnying. Of course he settled down immediately. He would of course because of my…her thoughts trailed off as she gently played with Bleaki’s soft nose. She wasn’t going to think about the gift ceremony.

As soon as they reached the small clearing, she grabbed his long black mane and nimbly swung herself up onto his great back. She did a little flip with her legs and only just brushed the huge wings under her. Safyra prepared herself as Bleaki bunched his powerful muscles under her and sprang into the air. She grabbed tightly to his mane and almost slipped off.

Easy boy, not so fast, she said softly inside his mind so the air wouldn’t riddle her words. Bleaki Taeke answered with a thundering neigh. They circled around and around in the air until they reached the higher slipstreams.

Princess! A call came from below her and she knew she had been spotted. Clenching her teeth she forced her mind to go blank, and quickly built walls around her mind.

Soon, all the calls below her were blocked and she nudged Bleaki Taeke to go faster to get away before her walls let up.

She hoped they wouldn’t follow her. They would probably think her crazy for searching for someone she had only dreamed about.

Still, she was quite sure they wouldn’t follow, no one wanted to go inside, or above the forest.

She was counting on their fear to save her search.

She closed her eyes for several seconds as the wind flew through her hair. She looked down upon the forest. Its huge trees towered for miles. Their foliage was so thick you could barely see the ground.

How was she supposed to find anything though their dense leaves? She forced her pessimist thoughts to the back of her mind and tried to just enjoy riding.

Flying was her favorite thing to do. It made her feel so alive, beating the odds of nature as she soared on Bleaki’s back. She patted his dark neck as he beat his huge wings beside her, gliding every once in a while, then looked ahead.

At first she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The air was sweetened by the calls of birds below her. She was overly sensitive to sounds and to her feelings, wondering if she would find the girl. She was starting to feel pressured, she really needed to find that girl.

Then, everything was strangely quite, and her elf instincts kicked in, sending adrenaline running though her veins.

Dark silence was not good.

Then she saw it.

A small black dot was steadily coming towards them. Bleaki seemed to see it at the same time as her and he snorted, his wings beating the air a little harder, a little faster.

Safyra strained her eyes, even thinking the spell for a hawk’s eyesight.

It didn’t work.

She felt panic well up inside her and as it came closer she racked her mind for possibilities.

Maybe it was a dishora. It was probably Kevyn, coming to bring her back and scold her for being rash.

But it wasn’t a dishora.

She could feel the uneasiness of the animals below in the forest and heard the trees’ faint cry of warning.

It came steadily towards them. She looked harder, her perfect elf eyes sharpening and focusing on the incoming figure. She did not know anything that flew like that; at least she hoped she didn’t. It rolled up and down, clawing the air as if to push its self forward.

Bleaki drew his head up and whinnied fearfully. His wings snapped the air as he balked. The ground lurched far beneath Safyra. She had never been frightened of heights, but now she felt fear well up inside her.

Still, the thing kept gliding towards them to the point where she could make out what it was.

It wore a ragged black coat. It had to be a person, yet she could not call it one. No one could fly unless they held a very strong ring of jaharah.

She herself had a very strong ring and she could hardly hover two feet off the ground. Even then she could barely lift herself off the ground without nearly making herself faint by all the energy she put into it.

The thing was now about fifteen arms lengths away. A chill spread through her and the air seemed to freeze, then heat up as her adrenalin made her blood run quicker.

She finally broke through her fear and yanked at Bleaki’s mouth with the reins and they quickly dropped in the air at a dangerous slant.

Bleaki pumped his wings hard as she tried to angle him down into the forest. She had to get away.

Even if she wasn’t looking up she knew her efforts did no good, the thing was baring down on them.

She seemed to be drinking in the air, not breathing it. Each breath was a struggle, and she felt the world press down on her. She felt terror envelop her, a feeling she was now used too.

It was the same feeling as in the dream.

Suddenly it was right in front of them, and Bleaki’s own shriek harmonized with hers.

It made a sucking noise like it was trying to suck the very life out of the world. And now that it was closer, she knew what this thing was.

It was a rakeer, a realization that sent memories and stories into her head. Bleaki’s frantic neighs turned into something deeper and as the rakeer circled around them, and Safyra felt relief for the dishora’s powerful fighting instincts. She battered herself when she remember she had forgotten her sword. Stupid and foolish, that’s all she ever was.

A sudden wind blew hard in her face and she fought for breath. The Rakeer was two arms length away and she felt dread, evil and blackness fill her. She paniced, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. Before she could find anything Bleaki took her by surprise by lunging towards the rakeer and she slid out of the saddle and tumbled off his wings.

At the last second she swung her arms around and barely grasped Bleaki’s mane. The dark Rakeer was inches away from them and stretched out one of its long bony arms for her. Its torn cloak slipped down its arm, revealing a gruesome arm made up of mostly bones.

Its face was not a face at all, but merely a carcass. Bones stuck out and its eyes were freakishly large and blood red. It had no nose but instead a gapping hole which the mystery sucking sound came from. It had small claw-like hands with sharp claws sticking out of its bony wrists. Just under the nose hole was a sickening mouth which held long, rotting teeth. It had several rows of them and each was stained a dark, blood red. She had heard so many stories from the ancient elves, the ones that still remembered the war years before. How gruesome the Rakeer or dead ones were was a common story told to scare youngsters into obedience. Now though, as she faced one of their stories’ main characters, she did not feel awed, or get a tingling in her stomach as she wished she could take on one of the feared beasts. No, she only felt raw fear, nothing more.

Bleaki screeched and flung up his hoofs and lowered his deadly black horn as Safyra wildling kicked towards the Rakeer, trying to make contact.

However, once again Bleaki’s sudden move was her doom as it loosened her death grip on his mane. She kicked her long legs, scrambling to get a better hold. She had no fear of heights; just of falling from them.

The Rakeer didn’t stop though, it didn’t even hesitate. He just dogged Bleaki’s hoofs with amazing skill and came at her again, making the same dreadful sucking sound. She felt weak and the air around her body had no familiar song to it. She was alone, her jaharah was dead. She was doomed now. Without her jaharah she could do nothing.

It reached for her and its scaly skin touched her arm. It was as if the coldest thing on earth had touched her. The part of the arm he had touched burned and if felt like her skin was slipping of her arm.

She cried out in alarm and let go of Bleaki’s mane and plummeted towards the ground.

Wind ripped at her. As she opened her mouth to scream, the wind ran down her throat and chocked her.

Above her, as she twisted in the air, she saw the rakeer diving towards her and Bleaki screaming in rage at it for attacking his master. He was keeping it at bay by stabbing at it with his horn and hooves. Even then though, the dishora’s horn came out without a single drop of blood on it. But why should there be blood? It was already dead. Even though it moved, it had no will of its own, only of its master.

She was falling at a tremendous rate but time seemed to have slowed down. How would she stop herself? Suddenly her elf instants kicked in and her mind went calm. She could use her powers to try to stop her fall. She groped for the ring of power in her, praying that it had returned. She felt it and automatically pulled some into her arm. It was a hard job to do it in the air, but it was possible, so she did it.

She struggled to turn over so she could face the tree tops. She was getting closer and closer to the huge trees and was falling even faster. Now her dishora and the Rakeer were hundreds of feet above her.

She pulled out her hand and threw the jaharah within her out into a large regair that stupid humans used to float off cliffs. Streams of fabric shot out of her fingers and billowed up. She grabbed the long rope-like tail at the last second and clutched it for all she was worth. Amazedly, she jerked to almost a halt. She was glad she had held on so tight. The jerk had ripped her shoulder and her hands were burned where they had slid along the rope. She bit her lip in pain as she tried to grab the rope with her other hand. She did and let her wounded arm drop to her side. After that she slowly went down at no more then ten miles per hour.

By the time she was ten feet from the tree tops, she was almost at five miles per hour. She guided herself out of the reach of trees by asking a gentle wind to push her and finally she sank to the earth and the regair disappeared.

She laid there for quite some time. The effort of creating something from air left her drained and her jaharah empty. Her pain turned to a throb as her body quickly worked to re-heal herself. As she rested, she felt the warm air brush her slivery blue hair. Soon she was aware of the songs of birds and the drum of the ground grew steady and back to normal. The Rakeer was gone, she was sure of it.

So she rested, exhausted from the fall. She lay on her back and looked up, searching for her beloved Bleaki. She strained her strong eyesight but couldn’t see any black dot in the rare patches of sky. After awhile she decided it was hopeless and knew that either the dishora was dead, or had gone back to the stable. If he had gone back, she knew that a search party would be immediately planned to come find her. They would not leave her here if they knew she was in trouble, even their fear would not hold them back. She desperately hoped for the latter of the options, and hoped with all her might that he would be okay.

She stood up and started the long journey home. She was too far away to try to mind communicate, so she would have to just make do with what she had at the moment: her feet. She began walking but soon stopped. Her shoulder ached with every step she took and hunger clawed at her stomach like an angry cat. She sat down and felt again for her jaharah. It was slightly replenished, so she decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a couple of grapes. She formed a mind image of a bunch of purple grapes, and let her jaharah take over. She got the desired result, but they didn’t taste quite the same as real food. Who was she to complain though? After all, it helped the hunger pains, but only left her more tired.

As her hunger was quenched her mind began working again and the curious gnaw came back to her.

She wondered desperately if that girl was somewhere near.

She was still worried about the Rakeer, but felt safe within the presence of the trees. Trees were the elves favorite plant. They were large, strong and grouped together not like pitiful humans. Each tree spirit song was different, unique and beautiful. She just hoped they would keep their forest from destruction during the war. Still though…the things that lived among these great trees would make anyone shudder.

When she was done eating, she stood and started walking again. The shade from the trees was welcoming in the heat of the day. She was traveling deeper and deeper into the woods, where shadows thrived and sounds sent shivers up her arm.

The trees here, instead of calming her, made her stomach turn and shudder. She couldn’t help noticing how the trees brought up memories of her dream.

Each rustle in the underbrush around her made her jump, eyes scanning the area before she continued on.

Maybe going to go look for this girl wasn’t such a good idea after all.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as a small lump about four yards away stirred.

Quickly she faded into the forest’s shadows. Using her black dress as camouflage she blended into the forest around her. Her skin turned dark brown and green, fading into the colors of the tree right behind her. She knew from experience that she was practically invisible to the naked eye. Every elf could camouflage itself with the forest. It was one of the many tricks they played while hiding from humans. No one would be able to see her unless they were looking pretty hard.

Her eyes, though, stayed the same intense blue as she watched the groaning lump in the tall blades of grass. Only if you looked hard and close into her eyes could you see the crackle of green and the gentle splash of grey.

She waited, her slim figure pressed into the bark of the tree, making her back ach. The lump though, did not stir again. Safyra was sure that she had seen it move. So she stayed still, trying to make out the dark figure.

It was in the elves nature to be patent, but Safyra began to feel herself get frustrated.

Finally, what seemed like hours later, she was sure the figure was either dead, or asleep. She slowly slipped away from the tree. Her cheeks faded into their normal flushed tan color and the rest of her followed down to her brown boots. She slowly walked over, keeping her distance from the form. Too many elves had been ambushed this way. The many stories rolled through her mind as her silent footsteps brought her closer and closer.

Thoughts of the Rakeer brought her to a stop, but it didn’t last long. She was too curious.

The figure rolled over, nearly scaring Safyra to her wits end. Quickly she jumped behind a tree, blending into its bark once again. She heard a low moan and bit her lip in confusion.

Safyra took a deep breath, and cautiously stepped away from the tree and peered around the corner.

Safyra, whose tree was only three arms length away, could easily see the figure.

She gasped. It was the girl she had seen in her vision! Her heart beat wildly and her brain seemed to go on over drive.

Her dream was real.

Still she could only stand there, gapping. The words ‘help her’ echoed in her head and brought back that weird need to help the girl.

Her mind sharpened with suspicion and burning curiosity. Finally, her playful and rash elf instincts took over and she crossed the remainder of ground between her and the girl. She gracefully slid down into the dark grass beside the girl.

She was defiantly the girl in her dreams, but so much was changed. The girl looked more like a beautiful mystery then someone in need of help. She had elf hair, Safyra noticed as she gazed at its cascading locks. But it wasn’t an elves nature color. Instead of and earthy tone like brown, red, blond or sliver it was black, like coal that had been spun into silk. Or, as she remember with a shudder, the darkness of her dream.

Her face was tan and smooth with high cheekbones and had a majestic look to it. A hurt, unhappy look was imprinted into her face and frown lines lined her young eyes.

The girl stirred again and her sudden movements caused her hand to fall into Safyra’s lap. It was covered with blood.

Jumping up with in-human speed, she screamed in horror.

So much for the girl not needing help.

Swallowing the disgust she had she walked back over and gently picked up the bloody arm, sliding back the sleeve.

Long, strange, scratches lined her arms and she realized with some relief that they were not deep at all. They were more like welts…strange ones though. They couldn’t have been made by anything besides…jaharah. The realization made her feel anxious.

Had someone attacked her? The thought made her blood run and she glanced around at the dark trees.

She could sense nothing.

Looking back down she gently touched the girls arm, then, concentrating hard she focused her jaharah and pushed the power out. She gasped as it left her. Jaharah was always more dangerous to use in large amounts. Healing always took so much out of her. Grimly, in the back of her mind, she wondered what it would be like to have healing as a gift. It would be much more useful then...well, she banished her next thoughts and concentrated on the spell.

When the spell was done, she felt exhausted. She could feel power draining from her. She had used too much. But she had needed to; this girl was clearly very hurt.

Her jaharah would return though. After all it was made up of all living things. As long as she was near living things she could get the jaharah they gave off. Still though, she had almost passed the line. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

The girl’s arm was still awful; she hadn’t even made a difference!

Kendora curse it. She growled, talking to herself. She didn’t know much about healing, but still she should have made some sort of difference.

She groaned in frustration, this was not working out right. She was an elf princess! She was supposed to know these things. She sighed and pushed back her pride. This was a job for the healers at the castle.

She leaned down to pick the girl up, but all of a sudden the girl’s eyes opened. Safyra gasped and leaped back, practically slamming herself against the tree. She immediately turned invisible, totally camouflaged with the bark. She couldn’t help thinking she was doing a lot of this lately.

The girl moaned and sat up, her face twisted with pain. The girl seemed to realize where she was and looked around her in wonder.

The girl’s eyes were green. Not just an ordinary green but a deep, outlandish, striking, exotic green.

The same green as the dream.

The girl’s eyes racked the tree Safyra was now imitating and her eyes got really big.

She was looking right into Safyra’s eyes. It was so impossible that it took the elf several seconds to realize that the girl could see her.

The girl fought against her hurt body to stand, hands in fist, her face set in a determined scowl. Then the green eyes caught a hold of Safyra’s blue ones. Safyra had never felt as powerless as she did then in the girl’s gaze.

“Who’re you?” the girl’s voice was slurred slightly and had a slow accent to it.

Safyra just stared, still trying to get past the fact that the girl could see though her disguise. No one could do that! Maybe something was wrong with her jaharah, after all, the whole rakeer business could have messed her up.

Safyra reached for the girls minds to mind communicate with her, but found nothing.

It was as if something was supposed to be there, but slipped though her fingers every time she grabbed for it.

The girl shivered. “What are you doing to me…?” She shook her head, looking so confused.

“Trying to mind communicate, what are you doing?” Safyra said, her face twisted with her confusion.

“Mind what?” The girl stepped back, flinching as if the simple action cost her so much. Safyra just stared at her. She didn’t know what…no it was impossible.

“Um, never mind.” Eying the girl she decided to get back to something she could make sense of. “My name is Safyra” The girl frowned at her name, as if it was strange to her.

Safyra found the unshielded emotion rude.

“What is your name and where do you come from and how did you get here?” The girl seemed confused at her questions as if looking for the answer.

“My name is Amy. As for where I came from, I came from . . . I came from White Ivory Barns. Are you from a stable or from town?” Amy stared at her, inquiringly.

What a strange name, Amy? She had never heard it before. And what did she mean by this, White Ivory Barns? Where was that? She wondered if Amy was mad. She shook her head to indicate she did not know this ‘White Ivory Barns’.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re taking about, but continue.”

“Oh, well, um, that’s where I came from.” The silence following the answer was deafening. Then the girl, who had been glancing quickly around her turned back to Safyra.

“If you don’t know what White Ivory Barns is, then what do you know? What forest am I in? The Smith forest right?” Safyra leaned slightly away from the bark, dismissing the girl’s rude words. She had made up her mind to know more about this girl. After all…those words from her dream still echoed through her head.

“This place is the Trydony forest. The Aletheaon TreeHold is in the middle of this great forest. I am the princess of the Aletheaon elves.

“Elves?” Amy said, bewilderment flashed across her face.

“Yes, elves.” She said it even slower, but her mind was reeling. Something was wrong with this girl, something terribly wrong. Was it actually possible she did not know what elves were? Impossible!

Amy giggled, looked amused. Safyra scowled at the emotion, who did this girl think she was?

Amy finally seemed to regain her speech and glanced over at Safyra.

“There’s no such thing as elves.” It was all Safyra could do not to throw raw jaharah at her.

“There is too your looking and one!” Amy frowned, and seemed to let the matter go. Safyra grinded her teeth in frustration, she couldn’t believe she had just exploded like that. This girl was getting under her skin.

“Fine, you’re an elf, I got it. Anyways, have you seen Kara? We need to go.”

“Kara?” This was something Safyra wasn’t expecting. There was more then one girl? “I don’t know who that is.” Safyra stared uneasily at the Amy, amazed that she had gotten herself in such a mess.

“Oh, where is she?” Amy’s breath quickened and she looked like she was about to be sick.

Instead, the girl’s eyes glazed over and she feinted. Safyra stood staring in surprise then quickly ran back over the Amy.

The girl’s face was twisted with pain. Then suddenly her eyes were back open and she was gasping.

“What happened, ow, it hurts…its ripping me...” Then the girl fell silent and clutched something under her shirt collar.

Safyra confused by the outburst quickly reached out and laid her small hand on her forehead.

She was burning up with fever.

She would have to get her home, but how? It was turning darker under the canopy of trees and she knew it couldn’t be dark yet.

There was a storm coming.

She bit her lip worriedly, she could just leave the girl here and go back home. After the storm they could come back on horse back…

But she knew she would never leave Amy. Even if the girl acted like her mind was lost, her dream held her captive, making her stomach feel sick whenever she thought of not helping Amy.

She stood, looking down at Amy, feeling like a mother protecting her child. Just walking away from her hurt, the words help her echoing in each footstep.

Maybe she was going crazy.

She dwelt on that thought as she searched though the underbrush around where Amy lay.

Soon, she found exactly what she wanted. Sending up a silent prayer to Kendora she grabbed a handful of a soft purplish plant with yellow flowers.

Fever-yai. Running back to Amy she felt relief wash over her as she saw the girl untouched.

She ripped off the head of the yellow flower and squished the steam with her long fingernails.

A dark purple blood spilled out of the steam. The purple goo brought back uneasy memories of being around the elder healers as they helped Jayraysha right before she had died. Still, she was grateful for the memory of the plant if it helped Amy.

Careful not to lose any drops she wiped the sticky juice on Amy’s burning hot forehead.

For several heart-shattering minutes nothing happened. Then, gradually the juice hardened then slowly disappeared, absorbed by Amy’s skin.

Safyra whipped her own fingers off in the long grass and leaves at her feet and then stood, waiting for Amy to wake.

The elf didn’t wait long. Amy’s long black eyelashes fluttered and a moan escaped her lips.

“Amy, can you hear me? You need to wake up so we can go to my home. A storm it coming, we need to go now.” Amy opened her eyes all the way, and Safyra was relieved to see they were clear.

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m sorry, I feel so sick…”

“Its okay, come with me…”

Safyra helped the green-eyed girl to her feet. As the girl stood, she made short, gasping sounds.

The elf remembered the word she had said when she was delirious. It’s ripping me apart…. She wondered exactly what had happened to her. Something was not right.

They walked through the forest in silence. Safyra needed to think, plus she didn’t think she could talk anymore out-loud unless she was forced too.

Watching Amy stumble along beside her, Safyra was reminded of someone else who she had walked through a forest with.

The painful memory made her grind her teeth in pain. Lately, even talking out loud seemed to be a reminder of how she had killed…she shook her head. It hadn’t been her fault. Everything was a reminder.

A flash of lightening that was quickly followed by thunder woke her from her memories. She looked over at Amy, who was now shivering.

Suddenly, over the roar of the wing above, she heard a rustle. She looked up sharply her hand moving instinctively to her belt where her dagger was hidden.

Amy seemed to sense something was wrong.

“What is it?” she asked but Safyra quickly shushed her.

Suddenly a huge black blur jumped out of the shadows and slammed into Amy.

The girl had no time to even cry out before she was slammed into a tree, knocked out cold.

The wolf lunged at her again but Safyra acted quickly, slashing her knife at the wolf’s backside.

It howled in surprise and pain and jumped away.

Safyra stood between it and the limp Amy.

The wolf, obviously furious with its injuries began pacing back and forth, watching her.

Give her up. Its sharp rumbling voice said in her head and she knew her fears were right.

Her gift was manifesting, she could understand this wolf.

Watching the wolf pace back and forth, she started to tremble.

She should have known that as soon as she had decided to help Amy her life would not be easy. But she had gotten the dream, and she was going to do whatever it took to help Amy. Even if she died while trying.

Never. She growled back, pushing her thought at the wolf viciously.

As soon as the words were sent the wolf grinned, its teeth shining in the un-natural light of the lighting overhead.

It lunged.

Safyra quickly swung her foot and kicked the side of the wolf’s face as it jumped at her. Her kick sent it sprawling slightly to the side of her.

It rolled then got up, its eyes even more angry. It would not try that again. It circled around them, Safyra always staying between it and Amy.

The wolf leapt again but landed slightly to her side and lunged sideways at her legs.

Safyra cried out in surprise and jumped sideways, barely managing to escape the snapping jaws.

The wolf twisted quickly though, as if it had been expecting her move and jumped at her side, knocking her to the ground.

She felt its teeth sink into her wrist and she slashed blindly at its face with her dagger.

It cried out in a whine and jumped over her, crushing her ribs as it braced off her.

Quickly she tried to stand but as she got to her feet it came out of nowhere and knocked her back to the ground. She slammed against a nearby tree and cried out.

It was playing with her.

She had no more energy to stand, and watched despairingly as the wolf watched her, blood-lust in its eyes.

She was finished. And once it was done with her she knew it would get Amy. The thought hurt her even more then her own up-coming death.

As it leapt for her she brought her blade up in front of her face, trying desperately to stop the fast assault of the wolf.

But the impact to her blade never came as the wolf was slammed in the shoulder and was thrown into a tree. A huge axe stuck out its side and Safyra quickly looked away from the gory site to find her saver.

Kevyn and eight other elves surged out of the shadows of the trees just as the clouds broke and rain began falling.

Kevyn ran to her, falling down on her knees beside her and his eyes quickly scanned her body, taking in her injuries.

Oh Safyra, my little trouble maker. He sighed as he brushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled despairingly down at her. I thought I told you to go for a walk, not an adventure…He glared at her, then reached down and stroked her arm.

Help Amy please… She quickly thought to him then she smiled up at his confused face before her she drifted away into a warm darkness.