On the continent the High Elves called ‘Erasmus’, there were three Dark Elves, and all of them lived in the city of Stormheim: Damiel, Artrus, and Eatha.
It was their responsibility to report the comings and goings and business that happened in Stormheim to the High Elves back in their homeland so that the High Elves could take appropriate measures if necessary.
Really, the work was divided between Damiel and Artrus, since Eatha refused to leave their apartments, listing so many complaints about the sights and smells of barbarity the two men had simply given up.
It was Artrus who had reported the gathering of soldiers in the common district; Damiel refused to step into the common district at all, preferring to roam around the upper districts of nobility and the castle.
Artrus greeted him with the announcement that two platoons would be leaving the city, heading east. The official word was training exercises, but the real word was ‘monster subjugation’.
The forests that bordered Stormheim were filled with all sorts of magical beasts, and made for excellent targets for training, it seemed.
“Follow them and see where they go and what they do. Normally I wouldn’t care what these creatures do, but it is quite sudden. I don’t much like the idea of them springing something on us unexpected.” Damiel decided.
Artrus nodded in agreement.
“Oh, and don’t let them see you.” Damiel added as an afterthought.
*****
Sheilah dreamed strange, many-threaded dreams.
In one dream, she regretted not telling Fialla that she was leaving the Redstone.
She should have told her, but she was afraid her friend would insist that she follow, which would prompt Sheilah to explain that she was really from Stormheim. She was terrified of how Fialla would think of her, then.
They had always been friends, and the both of them had killed Stormheim invaders together. Would Fialla turn against her? What would she say? What would she do?
Sheilah had left rather than trying to find out.
In her dream Fialla’s expression had cooled, her face had hardened, and she’d raised the spear that the two of them had made together, and leveled it at Sheilah’s heart.
In another dream, she faced off from Fialla, her Supremacy warring with Fialla’s own, the girl marching towards her regardless, spear in hand, filled with grim determination.
In a different dream, Adlan gave her a smile that was edged in sadness.
“Oh Sheilah.” He lamented, and shook his head sadly.
She struggled to reach him, but there was some barrier, some insurmountable obstacle that seemed to separate them. He shook his head again, but this time it was a simple negation, not one of sorrow.
“I’ve one final gift for a girl that should have been my daughter.”
She stopped trying to reach him, then.
“What is it, ancestor that should have been my father?” She asked, and he broke into laughter.
“Something you should have had from the beginning.” He replied simply, growing strange, wispy, insubstantial.
In another dream she was hunting another wolf, this time stalking between trees, focusing her attention on the clots of fog the wolves somehow managed to find themselves in, lunging through the vapors with flames flickering between her new teeth, hands curled like claws, eyes burning with brilliant and savage purpose.
In yet another dream, she was not even Sheilah herself, anymore. She was the dread shadow, true lord of the sky, trailing ribbons of ash and flame, and wherever she passed, trees burned, animals howled as their bodies caught alight, rivers and lakes boiled, and those that knew fear scattered in front of her as she laughingly brought the end-
Sheilah woke with the sound of gritting sand on hard stone near her feet. She snatched her sword and threw herself into a roll, bringing her blade across in a savage arc that was suddenly stopped.
“You’re not nearly as fast with your sword as I am with my spear, Sheilah.” Fialla called out in the dark tauntingly.
Sheilah stood up, letting the wolf pelt fall from her shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” She immediately demanded.
Dawn hadn’t yet arrived, but the sky was lightening towards it, the sun threatening to peek above the horizon; the air was more humid than in the Redstone, cool and laden with the scents of the forest, of herself, of Fialla, of old dried blood.
Fialla was silently staring at Sheilah, even as Sheilah wondered what Fialla might say, worried what Fialla might say, dreaded fighting the half-elf girl, planned how to win against the girl, considered how to dismantle the the thing in front of her-
“What are you doing here, Fialla?” Sheilah demanded a second time, heart thundering, an ache forming behind her eyes.
The young Wild Elf girl smiled at her instead. “What an obvious question.” Fialla retorted. “It wasn’t hard to figure out where you’d gone, and after tracking you for so long, it wasn’t hard to find your trail.”
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Sheilah rubbed her face with her hand. “Do your parents know you are here? They’ll kill you if they know that you’ve left the Valley.”
Fialla laughed at that, and poked the fire with the tip of her spear.
“I’m an adult, and I can go where I want.” She replied. “So I took my things and followed you.”
Sheilah sighed.
She moved to the other side of the fire, where she kept a small pile of wood she’d gathered. She tossed two pieces on the fire and then sat, gesturing to the other girl.
“Not only did I follow you, but I come bearing gifts.” Fialla announced, unshouldering a quiver that rattled with arrows.
“Dragonling tooth arrows?” Sheilah asked, and Fialla nodded.
“Another thirty.”
“That’s-” Sheilah began, but cut herself off.
“It’s nothing. I know how much you like them, so I had them made with my extra teeth.” The elfin girl replied casually, joining her at the fire. “I brought water, if you’re thirsty.”
Sheilah nodded, accepted the waterskin, took a few greedy gulps before handing it back.
“You still-” Sheilah began, but Fialla shook her head.
“I already answered you. I’m an adult, I can go where I want. So I’m choosing to go with you.” Fialla replied.
“They really will kill you, you know.” Sheilah finally said.
“The people that are coming to meet you, or my parents?” Fialla asked.
“Your parents, obviously!” Sheilah retorted hotly.
Fialla held up her hands and shook her head. “We had a talk. Also a talk with Davian.” She shuddered. “He gave me a thrashing.”
“Then he’ll kill you.” Sheilah offered, but Fialla shook her head.
“How do you think I knew to come here? He told me.”
Sheilah rubbed her face, frustrated. There was too much she wanted to say, contradictory things. She wanted to hit the girl, hug her, she wanted Fialla go back to the Valley, she wanted to embrace her and thank her for not leaving her completely alone.
She closed her eyes.
“Thank you.” She finally said quietly. “I was lonely.”
Fialla nodded at that, then laid down her bedroll next to Sheilah’s.
“I think I need a nap, if you don’t mind taking a watch for a couple of hours.” the elven girl announced.
Sheilah shrugged and nodded.
Sheilah climbed up onto the boulder she had sat on since she’d gotten here, and settled herself to think.
A few hours later, Fialla woke up, stretched, and inspected the meager camp.
There wasn’t much to inspect: Sheilah’s bedroll, campfire, and pack. There were a couple of deer hides and quite a few wolfskin furs she’d collected, as well as several pairs of the curious crystalline antlers the deer here had.
Fialla briefly rolled around on the thick wolf hides, exclaiming over their softness, until Sheilah tossed her empty waterskins.
“Well, if you’re-” Sheilah began, and then frowned in thought. “If you’re-” She tried again.
“I think you should tell me why you’re out here. Davian was as tight-lipped as you’ve always said. He didn’t explain why you’d left, except that it was your choice, and that people were coming to pick you up.” her tone turned up at the end, making it half a question.
Sheilah sighed at that; a conversation she’d dreaded having.
“Davian... told me... He’s not really my father.” Sheilah admitted quietly. “My real parents are- are from Stormheim.” She added, and rubbed her face with her hands. “He said I was given to Davian as a promise that Stormheim wouldn’t attack the Redstone.”
Fialla listened attentively, and gave her a puzzled look at the end. “You’re going back to Stormheim?” She asked.
Sheilah nodded.
“Does that mean that Stormheim will attack the Redstone again?” Fialla asked.
Sheilah gave her a baffled look. “I have no idea.” She replied. “I’ll stop them myself if they try.”
Fialla nodded and stood. “I’ll think of more to ask later.”
Sheilah nodded at that. “Well, if you’re staying, then we’ll divide up the chores.” She decided. “I’ll get breakfast together- it’s just meat- and I’ll have you get some water. There’s a small pool in the forest.” She pointed. “It’s about two paces across and about knee deep. Go fill the skins. Keep an eye out for fog.”
Fialla glanced at her as she was picking up the empty skins. “Fog? Why?”
Sheilah pointed at the furs.
“Those monsters make it somehow. They surround themselves in fog and hide in it. It blinds their prey.”
“Ooooh.” Fialla exclaimed in awe.
Sheilah grinned. “They like to hunt in packs, too. Be careful.”
“How will I find the pool?” Fialla asked.
“It’s pretty obvious.” Sheilah replied, and gestured for Fialla to climb up on the boulder. Once the smaller girl was beside her, Sheilah pointed.
“If you head that way in more or less a straight line... you’ll smell it in about an hour.” She explained. “There’s a few small rocks around the edge, too.”
Fialla nodded, and headed in the direction Sheilah pointed.
*****
Fialla eyed everything carefully as she entered the forest. It didn’t matter where she was, she knew that it was imperative that she keep an eye out in every direction. The Redstone killed the unwary; it was likely that this forest was just as deadly, perhaps in different ways, but still the same in its lethality.
There could be small predators that hid in the plants, larger ones that lived in the trees, even things that dropped down from above.
In order to survive, she needed to learn the forest’s dangers. Sheilah had already told her about one; wolves that somehow could summon mist around themselves.
People lived outside the order of things. They could kill or be killed by the savagery of the land around them. They had the need to establish dominion over whatever land they were in and become the apex predators.
That’s what it meant to be a member of the Clans. That’s what it meant to be a Dragon.
She was ill-suited to hunting in the forest. Her dragon armor was made from the hide of her dragon, a leather that was mottled charcoal and black, with spots that glowed like the embers of a fire in a regular pattern. If she was in the Ashlands she would blend in; the reddish-gold spots a warning to everything that death was nearby, but in the verdant forest, it stuck out.
Still, she was proud of her armor, the spirit of the dragon burned in her heart, and its hide protected her body.
She was a Dragon, inside and out, and no one could deny her power.
Well, except her parents, Davian, and Sheilah, She admitted to herself.
Where had Sheilah gotten her armor?
The hide of a Tyrant Dragon was much too thick to be turned into leather, and dragon leather armor was made to fit, personalized to fit the wearer.
Up ahead was the pool of water, and crouched nearby was a man filling a waterskin. Fialla froze and dropped into a crouch, watching his every movement. He was an elf, that much was obvious, but his skin was so black it was almost blue.