Rhania studied her opponent who was standing a good thirty paces away. His pose was that of an amateur’s. He held his sword with both hands in front of him with his right foot forward. Ricar stood eight paces behind him, hiding behind a pillar as he waited for an opening to strike with his dagger. Rhania exhaled before advancing slowly.

Glonn disappeared from view, but Rhania was able to guess his trajectory from his pose at the last instant. She took a step back as he reappeared to her left. She saw his sword flash and twisted her body, avoiding the strike easily. Her own sword shot out, leaving a shallow slash across his face. She backed away quickly as soon as she landed her blow.

Rhania exhaled slowly as the pair eyed one another warily. It was to her great frustration that she was far more talented with the sword than she was with the bow but for the first time in her life, she was glad at how relentless her Captain had been in imposing fencing lessons upon her. It was clear that her foe had never swung a sword in anger before today. She outmatched him in technique, and, here in this temple, she was able to draw upon the abundance of natural energies, making her sword and her body feel as light as a feather.

However, despite her advantages, Glonn was still quicker and stronger. He also had unnaturally rapid regeneration. The wound Ricar had left on his chest had disappeared, and the one she had inflicted on his face was fading quickly.

Glonn smirked before striding forward fearlessly. Rhania struck ferociously, piercing his chest with her sword before darting away. Glonn grunted from pain but doggedly stayed close to her. His blade work was sloppy and Rhania was able to evade his swings with ease, but the sound his blade made as it cut through the air was enough to make her hair stand on end.

Sweat began to stream down the side of her face. The tension of dodging these powerful blows, even if they were telegraphed well in advance was piling on her fatigue. To make matters worse, Glonn seemed to be improving his techniques with every exchange.

Rhania feinted a blow from the shoulder and crouched under Glonn’s counterblow before springing forward to thrust her sword at his heart. As it shattered through his ribcage, Glonn twisted his torso violently, causing Rhania’s blade to puncture his lung instead of his heart. Glonn let out a roar of pain before swatting Rhania aside. The half elf kept enough of her wits to cling stubbornly onto her blade as Glonn’s elbow smashed into her midsection, knocking the wind out of her lungs, and sending her crashing into a nearby wall.

Glonn staggered from the pain, and he felt a fog descend, clouding his thoughts. Then, a deep, imposing voice pierced through it.

“What are you doing, you fool?” it demanded. “Cease your play and come to your master at once!”

“I am my own master!” Glonn shouted back in his mind.

“Come!” the voice repeated, filling every corner of his mind.

To Glonn’s horror, he found himself unable to resist. The fog grew stronger, and he began walking towards the temple’s door. In the corner of his eye, he saw a man watch him from behind a pillar. He looked familiar, but Glonn was unable to remember his name. By the time he walked out of the temple, he was unable to remember his own name. He looked around until he saw the peaks of the Sawtooth Mountains to the east and began plodding towards them.

Once he had taken note of the direction Glonn had walked off in, Ricar ran back into the temple and rushed over to Rhania’s side. She was out cold but still breathing. The wiry man looked at the dagger in his hand and then at the Arbiter’s exposed neck as she lay crumpled in a heap on the temple’s stone floor. When a groan escaped her lips, he came to a quick decision.

“How do you feel?” he asked when her eyes fluttered open.

“Terrible.” she attempted to sit up before falling back and clutching her side. “I may have broken some ribs.”

Rhania winced as she looked around the temple. “How are we still alive?”

“He fell under some sort of stupor and stumbled off,” he replied. “He was heading east. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was heading for Hadlan’s Pillars.”

“So, his destination is Mount Nithdin,” Rhania mused.

Ricar eyed her carefully and sighed. “I suppose pursuit is out of the question.”

Rhania looked bitterly at the statue of Ergon standing in the middle of the pool. If only she could call on His powers, then she would be able to heal herself and carry on without having to wait. The pool’s waters had refilled by now, and he seemed content to watch over them instead of paying her any heed.

“Stop that, it’s a statue, and you’re being ridiculous,” she admonished herself as she reluctantly tore her gaze from the statue. Perhaps once she had proven herself to be a true elf, He would grant her His powers.

“What was that?” Ricar asked, looking confused.

Rhania felt her cheeks colour. “I will be able to call on Aertani’s power again at dawn. Then, I will be able to heal myself and we can resume our pursuit.”

“So we will have to spend the night here,” Ricar grunted as he took off his cloak and helped Rhania prop up her head so that she could use it as a pillow.

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Rhania looked at him and forced a wan smile. “You can shadow him if you wish. I will be able to manage on my own until dawn.”

Ricar smirked. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. We are close to the mountains now, and we did shatter a barrier. Creatures could come to feed on this place’s magic.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Rhania insisted and winced as a stabbing pain shot through her side.

Ricar chuckled softly. “Then you may assume that I am more worried about myself if it will make you feel better. I’m not daft enough to wander around out there with only a dagger to protect myself.”

He paused before looking down at her sword. “You are as adept with the sword as you are with the bow. Colour me impressed.”

“I’m told I am a quick learner,” she sighed after a brief pause. “At least for an elf. They say I learn as quickly as a human does, and I have had seventy years to learn both the sword and the bow, so I should be proficient by now.”

“That sounds like you have been blessed with the best of both sides of your heritage, doesn’t it?” Ricar mused.

“So I’ve been told,” Rhania said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.

For all her life, she had been treated as an elf by the humans she grew up around. Enlightened Elves were rare, and those few she encountered never treated her as one of their own, which was to be expected, for she was a stranger to them. Perhaps the Tribal Elves, who had secluded themselves, would be more welcoming. Her mother had never told her which tribe she was from, and it was Rhania’s wish to one day discover that for herself and reconnect with them.

“Can you imbue your sword with Aertani’s power?” Ricar asked to break the awkward silence.

Rhania nodded.

“It’s a shame you can’t call upon a second miracle,” Ricar sighed with a shake of his head. “We could have ended this whole affair right here.”

“I am aware,” Rhania thought bitterly.

“Being able to wield a sword imbued with Aertani’s powers is the hallmark of a paladin,” Ricar remarked. He glanced at Rhania and smiled wryly. “To become a Champion of the lowly human who played a prominent role in freeing his people from elven enslavement and in doing so earned his seat in the Pantheon.”

Rhania scowled and said nothing, and Ricar could tell that he had hit a nerve. The Arbiter could be so transparent in certain things.

“Are you worried that wielding the God of Light’s blazing sword will make you a traitor to your people?” Ricar asked. “As I understand it, the Captain of your order is one of the most revered paladins in the Empire.”

“I am worried that if I wield the Sword of Light, Ergon will turn his face from me forever,” Rhania admitted at length. “Although that already seems to be the case.”

Ricar nodded his head and looked at Rhania kindly. “I do not for one moment think that I can speak on behalf of the Gods, but don’t you think that He would consider it a greater affront if heresy was allowed to rise again because you didn’t do everything in your power to stop it?”

“I suppose you have a point,” Rhania conceded at length.

“Do you think you can defeat him if given another chance?” Ricar asked after a lengthy silence.

“He’s a novice with a sword, that much is clear,” she said. “It all hinges on how well I can heal myself at dawn.”

“Then all hope is not lost,” Ricar mused.

“That is assuming we can catch up to him,” Rhania remarked.

“For now, you should rest,” Ricar suggested. “I will stand watch until dawn.”

He stood up and stretched as he turned his gaze towards the temple’s entrance. “It has been five days since we left Yeryn, hasn’t it?”

“Do you think your master has sent for help?” Rhania ventured.

“It’s two days early,” Ricar pointed out before breaking into a wry smile. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if he has.”

Rhania nodded. “With luck, Idriene will point them in the right direction when they arrive at the village. We should leave signs of where we’ve gone before we leave.”

“There’s a good shout,” Ricar said. “I’ll do it now and perform a walk around the perimeter while there is still light out.”

Soon, Ricar was gone and the only sound in the temple was that of trickling water from the pool. Rhania looked over at the statue of Ergon at sighed. She had prayed to Him many times, begging to be counted as one of His children, but He had never answered.

She shook her head. She could draw on His powers, which was more than most elves could claim. That alone proved that she was favoured amongst His children, or so her Captain had said when she was in the depths of her despair after her mother passed. Her head knew that should have been proof enough that she was an elf, for no non-elf had ever been able to call upon, but she still held a deep seated insecurity that she could not shake.

As the temple grew darker, she felt very weary and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was greeted by a vision of her mother. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears streamed down her face. It was a mask of anguished rage as her hands were wrapped around Rhania’s neck. Her fingers tightened and Rhania began to choke.

“Why was I chosen to bear you?” her mother’s voice was a choked whisper that was laden with despair.

“Mother, please,” Rhania gasped in Elvish.

“Speak not that tongue!” her mother screeched back. Her voice was harsh and shrill. “You are but a mockery of our people!”

A loud crash filled the room as someone came bursting in and pushed Rhania’s mother off her. “What are you doing?” the newcomer demanded. “She is the hope of our people.”

There was an awful silence as the newcomer cradled Rhania in his arms. Then, her mother spoke. Her voice was frail and scarcely a whisper. “I am sorry, Vendar. I am not like you. I find humans vile and when I look at her, I… Please, take her into your care.”

“She is only fifteen, Ilharia!” Vendar pleaded. “Please, I know it’s hard for you but…”

“You know nothing of my suffering, Housebroken!” Ilharia’s voice was laced with venom. Rhania began to cry, and her mother’s voice was reduced to a hushed whisper. “Please, Vendar. She is mature for her age. At least by our standards. I cannot bear this burden for another moment. I no longer feel any attachment to this world and must go to Ergon.”

“As you wish,” Vendar said sadly as he lifted Rhania into the air. “Come now, little one, I will be the one to guide you from now on.”

Rhania woke up with a heavy heart and found that she had been crying. She winced as she brushed away her tears. The temple was dark, and she was alone. She began to tremble. It was as though a long repressed memory had bubbled to the surface.

“It was only a nightmare,” she told herself. Her heart was pounding. She had never had a dream like that before. “That’s all it was.”

Yet, in her heart, she knew from the lingering sadness. Was it a repressed memory, or her own insecurities intruding into her dreams? She would have to ask Vendar, her Captain, when next she saw him. Then, she became aware of footsteps coming towards her. They were Ricar’s and there was an urgency to them.

“What is it?” she whispered into the darkness.

“Trouble,” Ricar replied. “Can you move?”

Rhania attempted to sit up but gasped from the pain in her chest. “No,” she croaked.

Ricar looked at her and pressed his lips into a thin line. “That puts us in a bind.”