Chapter 1

Rathrir sat on a fallen tree, holding the small child in her lap. The child was so similar to the young of her race and yet so profoundly different. The human’s face was full of soft curves and seemed so ill at ease with the Forest. The Elves were born to the forest and as such were naturally at home in the wild surround. This Human boy, for a male it was, glanced around fearfully at her Aspect and in awe at the massive trees rising loftily from the vivacious undergrowth. Rathrir noted with increasing interest that his awe was far more prevalent than the boy’s fear. She could see also that he took the Panther’s presence in with only a brief acknowledgment of the threat it presented. While unusual for an Outsider, this was commonplace amongst Elves and even more so for the gifted few who became an Aspect Master. The wildlife of the Forest was accepted by the Elves as part of life. The question was what to do with the child. No Outsider was ever left alive once found in the Forest. However, Rathrir knew of no Outsider who was in touch with the Aspect. Besides that, people who could touch the Aspect were revered amongst the Elves. She tilted her face up towards the soft rays of sun, gently shining through the canopy, watching the iridescent colour of the leaves shift in the morning light. The boy murmured and cooed, stretching little hands skywards. Rathrir glanced down at him and sighed. This was a matter for the Council.

“Summon”, Rathrir pulsed to her Aspect. The Panther stared intently at her for a moment and prowled up the fallen tree to its highest point. He curled his tail around a branch and a low growl built deeply in his chest, crescendoing in a fearsome, ululating roar. His task finished, he curled on the trunk, his back to his Mistress, surveying the forest, watching. Answering calls rose near and far from the woodland. It wasn’t long before Elves started to flit through the great trees, gathering around the Hunt Leader. The first to arrive came to a swift stop around the fallen tree.

“Rathrir, what is that?” one said.

“Wait for the others, then I will explain”, she replied.

The Elves eyed the bundle cradled in her arms uneasily, their Aspects padding around restlessly, tails flicking low. They could smell the human boy. Before long, Rathrir had all her hunters gathered around her, their aspects littered through the woods surrounding them, always watching, listening.

“Well fought my Hunters, the Outsiders were all killed. The sanctity of the woodlands is kept. I don’t know what drove them to come here, stranger still, the Humans had a child with them”. She uncovered the child’s face and he stared, wild eyed, and curious at the array of Elves. The Hunters recoiled, some reaching for weapons, Aspects growls rose from around them. Rathrir sat, unmoved, by the display.

“What are you doing Rathrir, kill it, none are allowed within the realm!” a tall Elf said, fist clenched around her blade.

“Peace Dala”, Rathrir said, her palm upraised, “He is but a babe but stranger still, he… did something odd…he attempted to Claim my Aspect.”

A shocked silence rippled through the Elves, they stood frozen, as still as the trees around them.

“What?” Dala whispered, her elfin face etched in shock, “It’s not possible.”

“I don’t know how it happened, Dala, but i felt it. I could feel my grip on Kal fading. I’ve never heard of a Human being able to Touch an Aspect before, i must take this to the Council. Anyone who can become an Aspect is sacred to our people, you know this”.

“No, Rathrir, it’s an Outsider, it's not the same, they don’t belong here.” Dala quivered with intensity, her fine features marred with darkness.

“That is not for us to decide Hunter, i must take the child to Haldaran and put the matter before our people. Such things are above us.” She stood to dispel further conversation. “I will take the child myself, i will be back in 3 days, no longer. I want you all to keep watch on the outer reaches while i’m gone.” She eyed her Hunters fiercely in turn.

“Let none enter, let none survive.”

With that, she stood and loped into the the undergrowth, her long strides quickly losing her into the thick vegetation. Her Aspect sinuously followed her, his black head casting from side to side, vigilant and wary.

**

Away to the west, Almir stood utop the walls of Arduin. He stood unmoving, gazing in the distance, unseeing. Before him, arable fields and meadows stretched into soft undulating hills. Pockets of woodland peppered the land and the first signs of people showed as they began their day. Debris and signs of the storms passing littered the landscape, tree branches strewn across the roads. The softest of rains, almost unnoticeable, permeated the morning air. The King heaved a sigh and slowly walked to the parapet and placed his hands on the cold stone. Looking down he inspected them, huge and gnarled. The hands of the King, the hands of a warrior. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists.

‘Why?’ he thought to himself, ‘why did they come for my sons?’

Pearls of water dripped from the base of his silver streaked beard, the land itself seemed to weep for the loss of its Prince. The leaden grey sky seemed to weigh heavy on the world, pressing down, making the land seem small and confined. A heavy tear slowly trickled down Almir’s cheek, before being consumed by his beard.

‘I have been lax, as a father and as a king. No longer!’.

His face stretched into a grave grimace, tight with fury. He straightened up, and breathed a deep breath, his massive frame stretching out. His eyes blazed with fervor as he looked across the wall, and swept round to his city.

“Sergeant!” Almir shouted.

Down below the walls a figure melted out of the grey shadow of the wall.

“Your majesty?”

“Call for Huren, tell him to meet me at the Royal training grounds.”

The bodyguard nodded and curtly gave an order, sending a man jogging into the city.

Almir nodded to himself, rolled his huge shoulders and made his way down the stairs.

“It’s time i picked up the hammer again Sergeant”. He strode off towards the Palace, determined. His bodyguard allowed himself a small smile and followed.

Almir strode into his chambers, Katrana was nowhere to be seen, a small frown creased his brow.

“Sergeant!” The King called.

The bodyguard poked his head round the door.

“Sir?”

“Find my wife, make sure she’s alright”.

“Sir” came the terse reply.

Almir strode across his chambers into his Solar, calling for a page. He stood still as his page dressed him in light padded clothing, fit for sparring. His face remained stoic and grim as he was laced up. The page, sensing his King’s mood, hurred as fast as he could. Changed he strode down the lofty corridors of the palace, his feet landing with solid purpose. His guards shadowed at a respectful distance, eyes flitting from doorway to doorway, hands brushing unconsciously against sword hilts and axe hafts. Together they made their way down through the palace, passing rich tapestries and massive ornate stained glass windows depicting Saints of ages past and Paladins of legend fighting creatures of myth. The gloomy grey sky shone weakly through the glass, their usual vibrant colours muted and pallid. The softest patter of rain filled the passage with its gentle noise, providing a counterpoint to the King’s solid footsteps and the Guards hobnailed boots. They made their way down to the main hall. Here the hustle and bustle of palace life seemed almost unaffected by the loss of the the youngest prince. A trickle of farmers, merchants and gentlefolk still made their way through the magnificent doors to the palace about their business or to present their suit to the King's Justice. Laundresses and messengers still came hither and thither about their duties. Only a melancholic air gave hint to any change. The people wore muted colours, moved with a slower step, even some tearstained faces. Almir walked resolutely across the hall and out the door, his guards a step behind, eyeing everyone. People shared glances and whispered behind raised hands. The Prince was gone.

Almir strode onto the training grounds to the sound of shouts and the clangour of metal on metal. His arrival prompted almost immediate silence. The King hadn’t been seen to set foot on the long training ground in for years. The vast field was even more full than usual, the kidnapping seemed to have prompted most men to train harder, as if, taking the blame on each of themselves. There were men in full harness, clad head to toe in mail and expensive plate, archers shooting down a long range at butts stuffed with hay and men in simple leather practicing their weapon of choice at wooden pells lodged into the ground. The cacophonous noise died into an almost reverent silence as Almir stepped out onto the field. His eyes drifted across the men, noting prominent fighters and famous men. A huge man with close shorn salt and pepper hair hefted a huge hammer onto his shoulder and made his way from the pell he’d been striking to the King. He stopped short of Almir and dropped to one knee, head lowered in deference.

“Huren, it’s been a while” Almir said, a smile showing through the crags of his beard.

“Too long, My Lord” Huren replied, still knelt.

Almir breathed deep, eyes closed, inhaling the smell of oil, leather and sweat. He rolled his great shoulders and flexed his neck.

“Might i borrow your weapon Sir Huren”

Wordlessly the big man offered his hammer to his King. Almir curled his fingers round the strong leather grip, taking it as though offered up by a squire. Briefly it seemed as though the King was lit from within, a low white light suffusing him. Men blinked and the moment passed as the King approached a thick pine pell. He paused for a moment, the simple hammer at his feet, haft in hand, looking like a carving of a hero out of ages past. He breathed deep, once. Twice. With his third breath he whipped the hammer in a arc over his shoulder and slammed it into the pell. There was a sharp crack and a splinter flew, a tiny fracture split down one side. Without pause the Almir danced to his side whirling the hammer like a willow switch, rather than a four foot oak haft with with a heavy steel block. He struck the pell again and again. Thum-crack thum-crack. He stepped back, briefly, sucked in a breath like the air before thunder, and let loose a shout, perhaps a word, took a step forward and smashed the hammer into the pell. The pine shattered into a thousand splinters and showered men like hail in a vast arc. The men screamed and shouted their approval. Here was strength, here was power. Here was a King. Huren, came to stand beside his King, staring down at the wreck of the pell.

“You didn’t have to cheat M’lord” he said, his deep voice showed disapproval but his eyes glinted as he spoke. The men stamped their feet and slammed the butts of weapons into the ground, still cheering.

“I haven’t done that in a long time, it felt good to stretch” he replied, a grin stretching across is face. He rolled his shoulders again and stretched his mighty arms, a ripple of light danced along their length.

“Care to spar Huren?”

“Of course My King” said Huren, “but might i suggest armour or training arms instead?”

Almir Laughed, a great booming peal, he clamped a hand on Huren’s shoulder.

“Lets arm my friend” he said, steering them to the barracks.

“M’lord” one of the King’s guard was stood discreetly at his shoulder, “Your lady wife, The Queen, is with Nurse Illirin, at the infirmary”.

Almir nodded and a shadow briefly crossed his face, quickly smothered, reliving the loss of his son.

“Thank you”

Almir strode into the Infirmary still in his arming clothes, now sticky with sweat from his sparring. Katrana was sat on a simple stool next to a bed covered in clean white linen. Illirin was sat up talking to the Queen. Hanir sat on his mother’s knee playing with a strand of her blue black hair. His golden hair, like ripe wheat and sunshine on a summer day, provided a stark contrast. Almir paused momentarily, taking in the sight of his wife and son, a bittersweet harmony of happiness and grief sang in his soul. His sons were the joy of his life second, perhaps, only to his wife. Hanir’s shock of unruly hair mirror’d the same gold that was held in his own hair, a smaller reflection of himself. Pushing down unbidden tears, he pushed himself onwards to his broken family. Katrana turned at the sound of his boots, gazing at him with an unreadable look, eyes ever so slightly red rimmed.

“Papa!” Hanir called out, hands reaching out towards him.

Almir hefted his son out of his Mother’s arms.

“Hello my boy” He replied, smiling despite himself.

“Where is Hanir? I want to play swords and soldiers with him but Mama says he’s gone away”, Hanir’s face wrinkled with confusion, “When can i play with him?”

The surge of sadness and bereavement threatened to overwhelm Almir but he mastered himself, for his son’s sake. Katrana turned her head away, hidden behind a curtain of hair, her hand clasped in Illirins.

“Ah, Tenir, Hanir has gone away for a little while. You won’t be able to play with him for quite a while” Almir clenched his jaw against the tide of emotions surging in him.

“But why! Why has he gone and not me!” Hanir broke out into great gasping sobs, the trademark of a confused child. Katrana was suddenly there, wrapping her arms around them both, weeping. Almir held what was left of his family close, tears rolling freely down his cragged cheeks. Illirin looked on with grief, and guilt ravaging her heart. She bowed her head, a failure.

**

Miles and miles to the east, Hanir let out an excited shout of laughter. He was strapped to Rathrir’s back in a makeshift backpack. Despite the load, she loped easily through the sparse undergrowth. They were in a section of the woods where massive oak and elm trees rose to dizzying heights. Their massive trunks were so wide that 3 big men could wrap their arms round them and not touch. Dappled sunlight filtered through the lofty canopy, dancing on the short grass and fern. On the edge of Hanir vision, Rathrir’s Aspect ghosted through the forest, hunting for threats. The sunlight played on Hanir hair, turning it a midnight blue. He laughed in glee at the sheer size and wildness that was all around him, so different from the urban surround of Arduin. Rathrir’s easy running was smooth, as was her breathing. She was silent, only half aware of the boy’s delight, her mind on what was to come next. To bring the young child of man into the sanctum of the elves was without a doubt, forbidden. His interaction with her Aspect and his vulnerability played on her mind. It would be a greater wrong to leave him. She ran on, her long strides eating up the ground. Dimly, she pulsed to her Aspect, images of Rest and Safety played along their link. Acquiescence pulsed back to her. Before long the panther was sending for her. She followed her internal sense of her Aspect, wending her way through the forest. She came down a small rise and found her Aspect curled on a bank of a small stream, a perfect place to stop to rest her feet and long legs. She sat on a rock and swung the child off her back and set him on the floor. Immediately he ran over to the panther and grabbed at his tail. Her Aspect yowled and danced away, tail twitching in agitation. He seemed to look reproachfully at Rathrir and stalked off. Rathrir laughed, a silvery sound that seemed to bounce from tree to tree. The boy looked back at her in curiosity. It was not a human laugh. She looked at him, head tilted in thought.

“What is your name youngling?” She asked him.

He stared back at her blankly. Of course he did not speak the tongue of the woods.

“Rathrir” she said pointing at herself, “Rathrir” she said again, more insistently.

He replied in a tumble of words that sounded harsh and unnatural to her. She repeated the process a few times. He looked at her in confusion again.

“Im Hanir” he said.

“Im Hanir” she parroted

“Hanir”.

She smiled at him.

“Rathrir”.

“Rath!”

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She laughed again, chimes on the wind. She hadn’t been called Rath since she was a child. Still smiling she reached into her satchel and began to lay out food. Some dried venison, hard cheese and a kind of flat bread. She gestured to Hanir and pushed some of the bread to him. He grabbed at the meat instead and started wolfing it down.

‘Boys’, she thought to herself, not so different after all.

She pushed the bread and cheese at him again, gesturing again, he reluctantly took the strange looking bread and took a bite.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “bread!”

She smiled at his reaction, despite the language barrier. She sat watching him thoughtfully, slowing working through her own food. Before long, he had finished the bread and cheese and was hungrily eyeing her own ration of meat. She smiled again and pushed what she hadn't eaten to him. She pulsed silently to her Aspect, Look and See travelled to him at the speed of thought. She froze suddenly, the youngling was touching her arm, her Marks were, of course, glowing faintly at her interaction with the Aspect. The boy was touching the tattoo-like markings in wonder. At his touch, green and gold light seemed to softly ignite, spilling around his hand. A shiver of something seemed to travel up his arm. She watched transfixed as his fingers traced along the patterns, leaving a trail of quickly fading soft light. The patterns faded away to the normal black brown markings of inactivity. He sat back wide eyed and stared at her.

By my Ancestors, what is going on here, she thought, i need to take him to the Elders.

She packed swiftly, briefly encouraging the youngling to drink from the stream alongside her. Before long they were once again loping silently through the trees. They were many days of travel before they reached their destination and Rathrir longed for home, and answers.

**

Hanir stared about him. He and the strange woman had been running through the woods for a number of days now. She no longer carried him all the time but encouraged him to run with her as much as he could. He was currently on her back again after a afternoon of intermittent running. They were in an undulating forest of dense packed evergreen trees. The air was full of fragrance and the perfume of nature. The air was starting to lose the hot dry taste of mid summer heat and had started to cool for the slow evening. Hanir looked about him to see if he could see the big cat that was their companion, it was becoming a favourite game of his. An elaborate, one sided, game of hide and go seek. He couldn't spot the big cat anywhere but that didn't mean he wasn't close by. The cat was a very good hider and Hanir was filled with youthful appreciation at its skill of hiding from him. Idly he picked up a strand of Rathrir’s dark hair, it felt a bit strange to him, softer and fuller somehow, than his Mother’s hair. It tickled at his face a bit as it lofted up, almost suspended in time, in the rhythm of her long strides. His new friend was very strange. She looked the same as most the people he knew but there were differences he couldn't understand. Her almond shaped eyes were tilted up at the corners, her ears slightly longer and gently pointed. Her movements, as well, were odd. Felinely fluid, graceful in an alien way. His young mind failed to fully understand these things, accepting the new and the strange as only the very young can. However, even Hanir found it very strange that she couldn’t understand him. It wasn’t like when his Father's friends and Knight’s came from the far away and they sounded their they were trying to talk with a mouthful of pebbles. Nor like farmers and labourers who stretched out their words in a country twang. She didn’t speak Arden. At all. He dimly registered that Rath wasn’t like anyone he had met before but failed to fully understand why. He knew of course about the faery tales and stories his parents and Nanny Illiren read to him and his brother. About the savage Elves and the scary Ulrin, the Monsters in the woods and the fantastical beasts beyond. He has a sneaking suspicion that Rath might be an Elf but couldn't reconcile the stories that so scared him and his brother with the strange, but nice, woman who carried him through the last rays of summer sunshine. He shrugged inwardly and forgot about such insignificant thoughts and focussed on more important like where the kitty was and when he got to have more of the tasty meat that he knew Rath had in her bag. Slowly he reached down to the bag, lower on her back, and vainly tried to find some. She slapped his hand away casually and scolded him in a string of unfamiliar words. He heard the word ni which he was learning quickly meant ‘no’, which was his least favourite word. He pouted slightly, annoyed that he’d been caught but then he heard the cat let off a rippling growl. A trickle of green light played along Rath’s shoulder.

Found him! He thought gleefully, peering through the thick pines looking for the telltale patch of midnight on the forest floor. Caught momentarily between touching the interesting green lights that danced and shifted on Rath, and looking for the kitty he bit his lip. He was saved from making such difficult choices by the arrival of the cat. He came slinking through the woods, silently. He curled once around his mistress’ legs and immediately set off at another angle. He stopped every now and then to make sure he was never out of sight. Rath sped up. Hanir frowned. He didn’t like it when Rath ran this fast, it was uncomfortable and sometimes it hurt him being jolted around on her back. They sped through the fading light of day.

Hanir was jogged and bounced on Rath’s back for another hour or so before Rath paused on the edge of long, shallow bank. Ahead of them the canopy stretched as far as the eye could see. Tall hills dotted the horizon and, dimly, Hanir could see what must be mountains. There were mountains in the north east of the Human land but they seemed dwarfed by the huge slate grey shapes that loomed in the hazy horizon. Rath’s cat appeared at her feet and was gazing up at her, a silent intelligence shining in his amber eyes. He was making a low growl deep in his chest. After a moment of silent communication, Rath sighed and set Hanir, her bow and her pack on the ground. She shared some more food. Hanir was happily munching on the dried venison she’d given him when she started talking to him. She spoke rapidly in her fluid language but he couldn't understand a word of what she said. He stared at her in confusion.

“What are you saying Rath? You know i don't understand when you speak like that” he said around a mouthful of food.

She sighed and leaned forward earnestly, speaking slower but gesticulating sharply.

He shook his head at her, “I don’t understand.”

She sat back against the bowl of the massive Oak they’d stopped under, looking unseeing across the forest, frustration evident on her face. She stood up and walked over to her cat and put a hand idly on his head, scratching his ears. He hummed to her, eyes closed in happiness. A tingle of green light shimmered down Rath’s markings. Hanir loved it when her arm lit up. He walked over and bravely took her hand in one of his and chased the rippling light with his other.

She looked down at him, dark hair hanging in a waterfall of liquid jet over her angled face. She spoke a few words to him in a soft voice. He felt bad suddenly, as though he’d done something wrong, he wished he could understand. He squeezed the hand he was holding.

“Sorry” he said, and he meant it. He didn’t like to upset people. That was wrong.

The faintest light illumined Rath’s arm and her eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly he felt, or heard, her in his head

‘Its Okay’

Only it wasn’t words, or even a thought, it was a sense or a feeling but he knew what it meant. The feeling came with sensation and emotion.

He laughed in delight.

‘Hello Rath!’, he thought beaming up at her. He liked that he could talk this way, it reminded him of his brother and how sometimes, somehow, they could tell what each other were thinking.

A series of confusing images and emotions came from Rath in a rapid string. It was too quick for Hanir and it hurt his head, he pried his hand loose out of Rath’s hand, shaking his head. She knelt down and took his hand gently.

‘Young one, listen’, she gazed calmly at him.

He sent confusion at her, his face threatening tears. He felt strange.

‘Danger. Bad things. Move fast’. She kept hold of his hand and brushed his hair out of his face with her other hand. Hanir felt his heart beat fast at the simple images she sent to him. It made him think of the men who had come to the castle and took him. His lips began to tremble, the things she put in his head scared him. He didn’t like the bad men.

Abruptly images of Sunshine, Hugs and Laughter filled his head and he felt better. Rath smiled at him, it was a warm, nice smile.

‘I’ll look after you. Run’ she sent to him.

‘Okay Rath’ he sent back with a brave smile.

She laughed as she stood, walking back to her things. The impression that he sent to her of herself was one that she’d never experienced before. A distorted vision of a tall avatar cloaked in golden light, bow in hand and panther at foot. It was a heroic image. She felt troubled, she’d never felt or heard of anything like this form of communication. It was well known that the Marks let you commune with your Aspect but you couldnt talk to another person. Another oddity that confirmed to her that she had to get this child to the Elders. Hanir stared at her retreating back, confused, and a little scared. He was scared but had the absolute boyish belief that Rath would keep him safe. She looked back at him, packed, and extended her hand to him. It was time to go.

Hanir ran. He was starting to struggle to keep up with Rath. Her long legs demanded a pace that was too hard for him, even as she slowed the pace, it was still almost too much for the boy. The sun was setting away in the west and the forest was lit with glorious red and gold, gilding leaf and branch. Ever since they had passed out of the spacious oaked area of the woods, they’d been travelling through dense evergreens and now the ground grew steadily steeper. In fact they were going up and down small rises every few minutes, or following small game trails down and around. Hanir was getting tired. He wasn’t used to the strenuous exercise of running all day and he was beginning to flag. Beside him, Rathrir still ate up the ground. Before long he could barely keep one foot in front of the other, breath coming in desperate gasps. Without a word Rathrir gathered him up and slung him on her back.

The last rays of the sun had long faded from even the tops of the trees and the long twilight had begun to creep in. Usually Rathrir found a place to set up camp for the night before the light began to fade. Today, however, she continued to run. She ran relentlessly, as only one trained to do so can. The musty fragrance of the evergreens swam past them in torrents and eddies, small puffs of dust rose with each footfall, the ground hard and dry from a week of sun. Still Rathrir ran on, searching. Hanir endured the evening through a haze of exhaustion and, slowly, his head began to nod and sleep overcame him.

He awoke to the snarl of the cat. It was full dark and only the light of the full moon and the stars illumined the forest. Hanir looked around blearily for Rath and her cat, fear and uncertainty threatening from the fringes of his heart.

“Rath?” he called hesitantly.

“Shh!” Rath was suddenly in front of him, finger to his lips, eyes dark and intent. She cocked her head owlishly, alert and listening. The low ominous growling purr of her Cat carried eerily to Hanir’s ears.

“Shhh”, Rath repeated softly, slowly dropping her hand from his face. She twisted with feline grace and alighted on a stone, poised and utterly still. Hanir realised suddenly that she had her bow and a handful of arrows in her hand, the other caressing the hilt of her sword. The moonlight danced off the heads of her arrows as though they were tipped with stars out of the heavens. Hanir’s breath was coming fast in his chest. He didn’t know what was going on but the forest was utterly silent. No birds in the trees. No animals scurried their way through the undergrowth. Silence reigned supreme.

“Rath im scared”, his lips trembled and cold fear gripped him, deep in his chest. Rath didn’t move an inch but he was abruptly nose to nose with the sleek dark cat. His dark amber eyes seemed to almost glow in the silvery light. Keen intelligence shone in them. The panther made no noise, nor made any movement. Despite this, Hanir knew he was to keep quiet. As quickly as he had come, he was gone, stalking silkily out of sight with a flick of his long tail. Hanir tried to breathe normally, attempting to master himself. Rath would keep him safe. A deep, bestial roar smashed through the curtain of silence. Simultaneously, dark shapes burst through the darkness. Rathrir seemed to pivot instantly, bow already pulled taut, string to her ear. The musical thrum of her bow and the heavy thump of impact made an alien counterpoint to the screams of the night. Rathrir drew and sent arrows at inhuman speed. A crazed animal roar rent through the warm summer air followed by anguished, desperate wails of pain. More figures emerged. Rath dropped her bow and drew her blade in a flourish. It was shaped in an elegant tear shape, tipped curved slightly. She whipped it left, then right. It whistled through the air, a lightning flash of white as it caught the moonlight. She flipped off her perch, spinning acrobatically. She was lost instantly into the dark melee raging just beyond sight.

Hanir screamed. He couldn't stop himself, this was horror. This was fear. This was the manifestation of every boyish nightmare he’d ever had. Hellish roars and screams of pain assaulted his ears and battered his heart. He ways alone in the dark, devoid of the strange comfort of rath or the watchful eyes of the cat. He screamed and screamed, tears streaking down his face in a waterfall of infantile terror. Suddenly someone was there and a hand took him by the arm, almost gently. He jerked his head up, desperate for the comfort of Rath’s angled face. The hand tightened painfully. He found himself looking directly into a face straight out of hell. A mangled dark face with ugly ridges and bumps leered down at him. It shrieked into his face, presenting a mouth full of brown, jagged teeth. Hanir had reached a place of such profound terror that he was unable to move or make a sound. He simply stared. He was cruelly half dragged, half carried. Branches and thorns ripped at his body and the cruel vice-like grip on his arm crushed and bruised him. Dazed and exhausted, he cried silently. He was suddenly aware that they had stopped. Ragged breathing came from his captor. Hanir blearily tried to look around, craning his neck. Directly in front of them, some ten paces distant, an animal barred the trail they had apparently been following. In the dim light, all that could be seen was the impression of dark fur and long ivory teeth. It let loose a ripping sarl that seemed to linger in the air,, a terrifying sound that tore through Hanir’s chest. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard, beastial and savage. It was big, too, easily the size of the largest dog. Too big to be Rath’s cat. Hanir’s captor began to slowly back away, shaking loose a long jagged blade. It reflected a dull, cruel grey. Slowly, Hanir was dragged backwards. Their careful retreat made glacial progress but, slowly, the snarls of the animal lessened. The beast shuffled and growled. Hanir could dimly see it moving its head slowly, watching them. It shuffled back a step. His holder let a soft breath of relief hiss through his teeth, tension cautiously draining out of him. Hanir felt a surge of despair. He was being taken away again. He hurt. He wished nothing more than to be free of hs captor and to be back with Rath. This animal barring their way had at least stopped their headlong flight, it had given him some small measure of hope for being rescued. He was turned around, away from the beast, and made to back away a little faster. The beast growled once more, a last warning, and fell silent.

“No!” Hanir thought desperately.

He stretched out his arm, hand reaching hopelessly towards his fleeting hope. The last vestiges of courage slipping between his fingers. He reached.

“Help!”

His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from crying. Fear held him in an iron cage and despair crushed at his heart. His captor slammed the flat of his blade against Hanir’s head. Black spots and brilliant light flashed across his vision. Still he reached, desperate and afraid.

“Help”, he said, no more than a whisper.

He was struck again. Light exploded in his vision. His head rolled round his shoulders, iridescent green and gold light streaking across his eyes. A scream tore from his throat, half pain and half terror. A concussion of green light detonated, bathing the forest in emerald green. Hanir reached further… and clenched. The light was sucked instantly into his clenched fist, shining like a miniature sun. The animal ahead of him roared a full throated challenge. The light blazing in Hanir’s fist went in. It travelled up his arm at the speed of light in a ripple of green, the colour of spring grass, and burst from his torso. In an instant it was reduced to a low burn. No longer the blinding light of a midday sun, instead it was like a low fire, smouldering high on his shoulder. Pain seared along across his shoulder and down his arm, as though he had been doused in boiling oil. ASs, quickly as it came it was gone. His kidnapper dashed him to the ground with an exclamation of surprise. Hanir rolled and bounced to his feet. He skipped backwards a few paces. He could see now that it was one of the things that had been fighting the human soldiers where he had first met Rath. It could be nothing other than an Ulrin. Fear threatened to choke him. The stories he’d been told of the Ulrin were all too based on reality. They were well known to the men of Arduin. As quick as the fear came, it was gone. He realised that he could see. Not just outlines and silvery shadows. He could see as though it were twilight or dawn. It wasn’t just his sight he realised, he could hear the beating of the Ulrin’s heart, heavy and urgent. He could smell the cloying metallic smell of its body. He clenched his fist and his tendons creaked. He was all but bursting with energy. He grinned a terrible and feral grin. He was filled with wild anger and aggression, the Ulrin was trespassing. He screamed and leapt at the Ulrin, his fear burned away by anger. But Hanir was still a young boy and the Ulrin was tall and strong. Hanir’s leap cleared the distance between them in a blink of an eye. Hanir landed high on its chest and he hammered on its head and face in fast, savage strikes. Despite his newfound speed and agility, he wasn't strong enough. The Ulrin bellowed and raked at him with his hands, searching for purchase. Suddenly Hanir hit the ground, the wind driven out of him. Darkness crept in from the edges of vision, the world seeming far away. The Ulrin loomed over him as if from a great height. He raised his arm as if to shield himself. His arm rippled and shone. The animal that had blocked their path slammed into the Ulrin, its jaw closing like a vice on the nape of its neck, crushing. The Ulrin screamed and violently thrashed on the ground, pinned by the animal. The beast whipped its head side to side and a wet crack cut off the Ulrins wails. The animal dropped the Ulrin and turned to Hanir, its face covered in blood, long fur matted. It slowly walked towards him, head low, watching him. As Hanir’s vision faded and dimmed, he smiled in gratitude, curiously feeling no fear. As he lost consciousness a feeling entered his mind.

‘Brother’.

**

Katrana stood over the edge of the bed. The soft glow from the hearth illuminating Tenir’s golden features. Turning to the sound of soft footsteps she saw her King enter the room, gesturing him to silence they both leave the young prince sleeping. Almir looks dishevelled in his padded clothing, clearly he’s been sparring again.

“There’s something we must discuss…” Said Katrana earnestly while taking his hand in hers.

“Can it not wait? There are still affairs I must see to.”

“You go to see if any more reports have come back in the search.” Almir nodded his affirmation wordlessly.

“Well then, this can not wait then. We must discuss what we are to do with Tenir. He is coming of age and growing restless and yearns endlessly for his brother. I think it is past time we let him off to the Academy.” Katrana’s firmness grew with each breath as she became sure that what she was saying was right.

“I feel we must further delay it. At least until we know more.” The king said softly to his wife.

“But can not you see? Will we wait until he’s another year older? We may not know what’s happening to one of our sons my love, my king, but we do still have Tenir. Do we forsake him until we maybe hear some news?”

“You would send away our son? As though losing one wasn’t enough, we shall now be without the other for nearly a dozen years?” Anger now tinting the edges of his words.

“We do not send him off. We obey our traditions, we let him live his life as our society demands. And we allow ourselves time to go and search for Hanir, We do no good as we are. You, with your futile shows of bravado with the men, and me sitting watching paranoid that we may lose our remaining son if I leave him be.”

“FUTILE?!” Rage bellowed out of Almir. “I’m preparing, I’m planning, I’m setting plans in place and when news comes. I will lead the men swiftly to remedy this tragedy. My love, I do what I know, as king, to do.” As his sentence died, so did his rage. Almir knew it was not this conversation that was stoking the embers of his fury. Katrana, as she always did, struck true with her remark. How can a king be so hapless in the rescue of his own son. How can he leave, one so helpless, helpless. Futile was exactly how he had been feeling, and his sparring was a distraction and outlet for it, but it was sisyphean in practice. There was no escaping this reality.

“My Queen, you are, as always right. We cannot keep things as they are in the hope they will return to as they were.” Almir almost blushed in apology. Katarana placed her hand on top of Almir’s reassuringly.

“My love, I do not blame you for this, nor can I fault your anger. And save your apology.” She listed, soothing her king with every slight pause. “My king, we must do what’s right by Tenir, he must grow as we did, as every child does. They were to go together yes, but we cannot put our sons life on hold and hope that freezes time for our other son. Please consent.”

All the taught lines faded from Almir’s face as he stared into his Queens eyes and breathed in the wisdom of what she was sayings.

“Again, you have me cornered in agreement with no hope of denying you in your faultless argument.” A burgeoning smile eased his face further as he took his wife into a tight embrace.