They’d been walking for an hour or so when Indrani caught Dulcinea’s elbow. He made some hand gestures that let her know that he wanted her to halt and be quiet.

“Kofi!” she said in a loud whisper. “Hold up!” The sprite turned in mid-air and circled back till he was hovering a few inches from her face. “Indrani is going to scout ahead.”

“What for? These Drow never give me any grief,” he said, perturbed by the delay.

“He has good sense and is wise beyond his years. If he thinks it makes sense to exercise caution, it would be wise to listen to him. So to speak.”

“Fine, but I do have things to do, you know…”

Indrani had already vanished, and even the Sprite had not seen him leave. The silent elf was considered stealthy among people who were naturally light of foot. Somehow, he was able to pass through thick brush without catching his loosely fitting robe on branches and barbs. His tall, pointed ears had perked up at a sound that the others had missed, or written off as random forest noise. He entered the forest ahead of the others, but almost immediately veered to the right and then quickly doubled back on their path. He found the source of the rustling, the source of the light breathing that had caught his attention. Indrani circled till he was a hundred feet behind Dulcinea and the Sprite when he found what he was looking for. There was an elf in leather armor and carrying a long wicked dagger, blade blacked to stop even the slightest glint of light from reflecting off of the steel. He looked like he belonged with Indrani and Dulcinea, and the elven people, except for his skin. Where they were a light grey pallor, he was dark as night.

The man crept after them quietly, but his technique was not perfect, and Indrani could follow him as easily as if he were a Canth trampling through an Agum field. As soundless as a forgotten tomb, Indrani closed within a dozen feet of the Drow elf. Past him, he could see Dulcinea and the Sprite Kofi, whispering to each other and facing the other way. They were not aware that anyone was behind them; this would be the perfect time to strike. The Drow crept closer, closer, closer… and reared back his arm to strike the elf mage.

“Ahhhh,” he screamed as Indrani’s dagger pierced his side, catching the dark elf between his chest piece and belt. Dulcinea and the Sprite turned at the sound of the scream and were greeted with the sight of Indrani with his arm around the neck of a dark-skinned elf and his knife buried to the hilt in the elf’s side. It hurt Indrani to speak, so he didn’t. It was pretty clear what had taken place. A blackened knife lay on the ground at the Drow’s feet.

“Your partner has keen senses,” Kofi said. He flew over to get a closer look. “He must be very skilled to surprise one of the faerie folk. And you still hear him and were able to sneak up on him. I am impressed, sir.” He bowed while hovering in place.

“Why would you attack us?” Dulcinea asked. “We have done you no wrong! We’ve never even met one of your breed until this very moment!” She was outraged by the senseless attack.

“You all deserve to die! You day elves hunted us and forced us underground, scratching at the earth for gold and gems to fill your coffers! Even though you have been absent for thousands of years, the Drow Elf memory stretches back to the beginning of time.” He winced at the intense pain from the knife that was stuck deep in his torso.

“I have no idea what you are talking about assassin. My people have been under the rule of the Lords of Shadow for thousands of years. They kept us prisoner in their underground world, made to labor for generations. They used us for their cruel pleasures, and they fed us to their army of Dragonkin. Who do you think has had the worst of it?” Dulcinea asked the dark elf, “That our people are related, there can be no doubt. Are all of you as hard of heart?”

“I care not for your troubles. I will warn my people that the Day Elves are back and that we should prepare for war!”

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“Well, we can’t have that,” she said looking knowingly at Indrani. He pulled out his dagger and plunged it into the assassin's side, his steel sliding between the ribs and into the man’s heart. His features went slack, and his eyes closed as he died. Indrani carried him away to stash him under a large protruding root, then covered his corpse with branches.

“I’m sorry about that miss,” the Sprite said, visibly shaken by the attack. “I told you that the Drow were not the nicest of neighbors, but I had no idea that they would try to murder us.”

“I believe you. My people once numbered in the millions, and now we are a small fraction of that. To find long lost cousins, elves that could become allies and help us to find a new homeland… that was the dream.”

“I doubt that he’s the only one with such sentiments. Should I take you back to the others?”

“Yes, please take me back, but Indrani will get a little closer. I need to take useful good information back to my people.”

Indrani made some gestures with his hands before heading in the direction they had been traveling before. The faire had some kind of network that they used, so when they left the scene of the crime, they headed in a different direction. Two hours later, they arrived at the camp where Nicholas and Connor were sleeping off a night of strong drink.

Indrani used a combination of instinct and learned skill. He made little to no noise as he drew closer to where the Drow were supposed to be living. The forest eventually gave way to patchy vegetation, then finally dirt and rock. He narrowly avoided patrols and random Drow till he came to a cliff. Lying flat, he edged himself closer till he was able to peer over the edge and see down into the depth of a huge excavation. He lay there with his cowl over most of his head, only his white-grey eyes showed. In the pit was a beehive of activity. The elves were pulling ores from the ground, and crew after crew exited tunnels that he could only assume went for miles beneath the ground.

It occurred to him that with their skin coloring, and the fact that it was later than any respectable person should be awake, and they were hard at work; they must be nocturnal. A small forge was set against the edge of the pit, belching out smoke and radiating great heat. They were forming ingots of iron for later smelting into steel and gods knows what else. No children were present, but there were plenty of women, they looked his people, except for their coloring. Like Dulcinea, he grieved at the loss of what could have been a beautiful friendship.

He watched for a while, then circled around till he could get a good feel for how his long-lost cousins lived. A single mountain lay a mile from the mine and when he got close, he could see that they had built an entire city into the side of the rocky cliffs. Near the top were dwellings, probably for the upper class. On the bottom were the smaller, simpler cells, made for the lower class and single men to live in. The lowest level was also filled with shops and stalls for purchasing various food and clothing items. The middle section is where the skilled workers were, making clothes, armor, housewares, and other tools.

They have no enemies on this island and yet almost every man and many of the women carry some type of weapon, Indrani thought to himself. They are making everyday items, but they also are crafting shields, weapons, and armor at a frightening rate. They are preparing for war, but against whom?

He knew he was dangerously close, but he had to see more. They were at peace with the fairies and according to the Sprite, there were no other races on the island. They were preparing for war; of that, he had no doubt. Indrani circled the mountain, taking hours to get to the point where the slope continued in into the sea. There he saw a pirate ship that was docked at their single pier. They were rolling the large metal tubes onto the ship. There were dozens of humans, working with the Drow elves to get the weapons on board and installed properly. What caught his eye was the leader of the pirates. A tall Mavit Tomar man in full military uniform was coordinating the work and seemed to be ordering around both his men and the Drow.

Everywhere there is trouble recently, we find these half goat-men.

His thoughts were cut short by an arrow striking him on the upper left shoulder. The pain was great, but he’d suffered through much worse in his hundred or so years. He turned, and with his keen vision, was able to see the elves coming for him. There were three that he could see, all armed with bows. He pulled out his bow, just as they launched another volley of shafts. He ducked behind a tree and was able to avoid getting hit again. When he knew that they would be reloading, he ducked out and fired a shot of his own. Because of their numbers, they were convinced that they could easily bring him down and they didn’t try to conceal themselves. His arrow struck true, finding the heart of one of the Drow. More arrows zipped past, barely missing his exposed thigh. He ducked out to shoot again, but they’d learned their lesson. One of them whistled loudly and in seconds, he was completely surrounded. The last thing he remembered was the crack of a sword hilt against the back of his head.