I have the first 4 chapters and a good chunk of the 5th one already typed up, so I'll just go ahead and post those one after the other.
For the most part, this story will be told from Gilean's perspective, but it will be jumping back and forth between different time periods of his life. Chapter 2, for example, will be set at the period when Gilean was a child.
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CHAPTER 2 – FAMILY
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[p=center]Age of Dorweir - Year 2609[/p]
Deep within the Forests of Everist, near the southern tip of the continent of Alfheim, there lay the hidden village of Nevara'el. From the name and the location of the settlement, one could make a reasonable (and correct) guess that this was an elven village. However; this village was a far cry from what would be considered normal. The hidden nature of the village was itself not so uncommon as elves, while friendly, were known for preferring the solitude of nature.
But the numerous wards that dotted the landscape that were designed to hide the village and prevent any wanderers from venturing too deep in the forest. With the addition of the many sentinels deployed by the village to turn back any who got too close, were all fairly good indications that this was no ordinary village.
Just below the treeline, hanging about 8 meters off of the ground, several rope bridges were strung across the gap between trees. Despite their rickety appearance, the wooden slats serving as footholds for the bridge did not even creak as people nimbly stepped across them. Apart from a gentle sway, the thick coils of rope serving as the support for the bridges held fast without any signs of fraying, thanks to the incredible skill of the mages and engineers who were involved in their building.
At the end of every bridge, there lay a treehome that made up the upper part of the village. It was here that the engineers true talents shined, for each home was painstakingly grown, not crafted, from the tree itself under the magical crooning of druids following an intricately detailed architectural schematic. While each treehome was covered with the same general layer of enchantment, such as water and fire-proofing, residents were free to modify their home as they saw fit.
Most people ended up modifying their home, either to provide for a larger family, or to create a professional home. Professional treehomes were typically large homes, often incorporating two or more trees to accommodate traffic and to secure the necessary space needed for a trade. In a somewhat haphazard manner, these professional treehomes lay at different levels of the trees they rested on depending on how much of the tree's strength they needed.
For example, the blacksmiths dwelt on the lowest levels of the village so as to gain the greatest amount of support from the trunk of the tree to compensate for the weight of their home's equipment and wares. In contrast, agricultural homes extended from the ground all the way to the very highest levels, usually in large clumps of five or six trees, to take advantage of the precipitation and sunlight. Agricultural homes were surrounded on all sides with great bark walls, woven out from the trees that served as their pillars, with the insides entirely filled with soil.
Some ways away from the village, but still within its borders, high above the ground and resting in the branches of the trees were two guards: An elvnmas who bore a distinctly masculine appearance and elvalya who was undeniably a female elf, kept a watchful eye aimed at the borders of the village. Below the guards, in one of the few open spaces of the dense greenery, a group of children were embroiled in a lively game of tag.
Their shrieks of delight that punctuated the air, brought a faint smile to the guards' seemingly impassive faces. They did not worry about any of the children crossing the borders, for every child knew the extreme danger of their village being discovered. In addition, they would never get past the honor-guard who stood watch further away where the wards ended without a proper escort in tow.
But such unknown dangers were of no concern to the children as the game intensified towards its conclusion with the final few players. In the entire village, there were seven children who were all enjoying the game.
“Tag!” gleefully cried out one girl.
“Freeze, Felia!” called out the other 3 children who had been tagged out of the game already. They all giggled when they saw the pose Felia had to stay stuck in until someone else was tagged. Felia had been in mid-step when she had been tagged by Anaya, with her arms splayed out at different angles as she tried to avoid Anaya's quick fingers. Stilvan groaned in relief as he broke the pose he had been holding and immediately fell to the grass and sprawled himself out on the lush grass contentedly, prompting a new torrent of laughter.
It was down to the final 3 players, who had unconsciously taken up equidistant positions from each other in the form of a rough triangle. The children eyed each other warily, waiting for Felia to name the new tagger.
“Tag! You're it...” called Felia, pausing for dramatic effect, which prompted several eye-rolls and groans, “Elphias!”
One of the two boys darted for his black-haired compatriot, who presented a more open path than Anaya. The second Elphias' name was called, all 3 children sprang into action: Elphias chased after the other boy who had bolted towards the treeline where the other girl was fleeing towards. The black-haired boy quickly sprinted through the clearing, with Elphias in hot pursuit.
“5...4...3...2...1...Switch! You're it Anaya!” cried Reval. The black-haired boy and Elphias stopped dead in their tracks and quickly ran back the way they had came, splitting off in different directions when they ran past one of the other children in the grass. Anaya swiftly chased after Elphias whose strength was flagging after putting on an extra burst of speed in trying to catch the other boy. All of the other children were cheering for their favorites, urging them to run even faster.
The last girl who was sitting out started the countdown for the tagger switch. At the very last second, Anaya reached out and scored a touch on Elphias' back. “Tag!” shouted Anaya triumphantly.
Elphias froze in the stereotypical posture of an elvnmas pantomiming a running motion. As Felia slid down onto the grass, stretching out her stiff muscles in relief; Anaya and the black-haired boy walked back towards the centre. Now the game would get even faster as players changed the position of tagger with every single attempt. In addition, they weren't allowed to be more than three metres from each other. Elphias hopped in place to turn around while maintaining his pose, but also so he could get a better view of the game's conclusion.
“You're it...Gilean!” yelled Elphias. Gilean sprang forward as his name was called and jabbed a hand towards Anaya, making sure not to fully extend his arm. His caution proved sound as his tag fell short as Anaya jumped to the side to avoid his hand as her own streaked through the air. The contest continued with both sides trading blows with each other with ever increasing speed, sporting wide grins on their faces. Their audience cheered during the bout, sometimes expressing shock and disappointment when one had barely missed the other.
Gilean's world quickly began to fade out, until only he and Anaya remained to fill the void. Her emerald eyes glittered joyously that sometimes sparkled with a mischievous light when a clever feint almost caught Gilean. But it seemed like fortune was on Gilean's side when Anaya overextended herself, which Gilean seized upon with a wickedly fast retort to the back of her hand. Sound returned to the world and time returned to its normal flow as Gilean declared his victory, “Tag!”
As Anaya froze in a very comical pose, the other children burst in to applause and cheers. Gilean's chest heaved with exhaustion, but his face showed nothing but elation. He stole a glance at Anaya as the other children gathered around them who noticed Gilean looking at her and gave a quick win, sticking her tongue out at him as she did so. The rest of the boys were punching Gilean on the shoulder and slapping his back so he stumbled forward while the girls were enthusiastically praising Anaya's efforts as she unfroze; accepting their consolations with a sweet laugh.
“Nicely done, Gilly. Although I would've had you if not for that countdown.” said Elphias.
“Is that a challenge I hear, Elphi?” drawled Gilean.
“Rematch!” “Again! Let's go again!” chanted the rest of them. Gilean and Elphias quickly agreed and tackled each other to the ground, wrestling with one another for control, with the other boys egging the two of them on. This contest was then just as quickly broken up as it had started by Anaya and the other girls with a sharp knuckle on their heads as they reminded them that they had classes to get to.
“But those are an hour from now! We still have time for at least 2 more games!” protested Stilvan who was accompanied by the very vocal agreements of the other boys. In a way that only females are capable of accomplishing, all three girls responded with withering stares that rapidly dispelled the other side's unvoiced retorts as they fell into a meek silence.
“I will not attend class while both myself and my classmates reek of sweat. We will use our remaining time to wash ourselves and then proceed directly to our lesson.” said Anaya in a tone that brooked no arguments.
To the outside world: Elves resided at the pinnacle of grace and beauty, a gloriously potent mix of strength, magic and majesty. In truth, it was thanks to the unceasing efforts of the elvalyara that maintained this illusion. A harmonious democracy to the rest of the world; an unspoken matriarchy on the inside.
“Got it...” mumbled the boys dejectedly.
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A little under an hour later, the children gathered together in their Lesson Home. They were in a tight half-circle, sitting cross-legged with straight backs and hands clasped together in their laps. Their teacher sat in the same manner as they did, addressing them in his deep and calming voice. His age, like all elves, was impossible to guess as no elf showed anything older than a human in their second decade of life. Only his eyes hinted at the uncounted years of life in their deep, sapphire pools.
“Could someone please remind me, where we left off last time?” asked the Teacher, seemingly to no-one. Gilean was never sure how the old elvnmas managed it, even when he seemed to be looking at nothing, you knew when he was looking at you.
“Teacher Retsa” began Gilean, “In our last session, we discussed the best method of killing lycanthropes.”
“Correct.” nodded the elf, “Who remembers what that method or methods were?”
“Silver-edged weapons are currently the best method for killing werewolves.” answered Felia.
“I see.” said the Teacher, “Would a sword or an arrow made entirely out of silver serve me better than a weapon only containing a mere coating of silver?”
“Even if we were to ignore cost, an edged weapon would still be better. A sword or projectile made entirely out of silver, even one that was reinforced with magic, would not be strong enough to penetrate the thick hide of a werewolf.” supplied Reval with a lengthy answer.
“Well said.” smiled the old elf as Reval tilted his head down in embarrassment, ears reddening. “Now...for today's lesson, I thought we would discuss demons and their hierarchy.”
Gilean unconsciously sat up even straighter, for this was a topic that was of particular importance to him and his family. “Out of all of the foul creatures that inhabit this world, none are so vile as demons. Unlike many of the creatures that our village hunts down, demons possess an intelligence comparable to our own. And yet, what do they choose to do with this knowledge? Torture. Steal. Kill. Destroy.” said Retsa, looking at each of them in turn as he said these things.
“They are the anti-thesis of Life; beings that misuse their power to crush all those beneath them in a never-ending quest for power. I have taught you children many things about this world, and have tried to emphasize that you shouldn't view this land in black and white.”
“...But this does not apply to Demons?” asked Carissa hesitantly.
“No, child. It does not.” replied Retsa kindly, “Demons are not of this world. Each member of their kind embodies one part of the greater whole: Evil.” The children sat in an uneasy silence as they absorbed this information. An entire species dedicated to destroying life, one that was potentially on a level equal to that of elves in terms of strength, was a terrifying one. Gilean had heard such things from his parents and brother, so he was not as unsettled as the rest of his friends. There was something new in what Teacher Retsa said that he hadn't heard before though.
“Teacher, what do you mean they are not of this world? Where do they come from if not from some foreign land?” asked Gilean.
Retsa nodded his head sagely, “A good question indeed, young Gilean. To be perfectly honest, I do not know where exactly Demons come from, but I can tell you that they definitely do not originate from these lands.” The children were temporarily stunned that Retsa, who seemed as if he knew everything, did not know the answer.
Anaya was the first to recover from this shock, “If you do not know where they come from, how can you be so sure that they do not come from some unknown land, Teacher Retsa?”
“Very astute, Anaya. Allow me to clarify myself: We know they hail from another place, but we do not know where or even what that place may be. That did not stop the many peoples of our world from giving their world a name though: Hell, Netherworld, Naraka, Xibalba, Gehenna, Diyu, and a thousand other names depending on what parts of the world you visit all refer to the same place.” explained Retsa, his eyes focusing on Anaya once more. “Does this answer your question, Anaya?”
“No, Teacher Retsa. It does not.” answered Anaya instantly.
Retsa smiled and gave a small chuckle, “You are quite right! Will someone please tell me then, how I can be so sure that Demons do not originate from some mysterious part of the world?” surveying the entire room as he did so, indicating that this was an open question for anyone to answer.
The children sat in silence, entrenched in their thoughts as they racked their brains searching for a plausible explanation. Finally, after a few minutes of deep thought, Elphias voiced his thoughts, “In order to have that much confidence...you would need some sort of definitive proof or maybe multiple pieces of evidence that definitely indicate that Demons are from another world...”
Retsa noted with a hidden smile that Elphias' words served to guide the children's thoughts into the correct line of thinking. As he thought this, Stilvan answered the question with another, “Teacher Retsa...have there ever been any instances of Elvnkin or any other people visiting this other world?”
“Yes. There have been such instances.” affirmed Retsa, clapping his hands together as he did so. The children's eyes all widened, but they made no sound, for fear of missing anything Retsa might say. “The first account in written history was by one Desmos of Thekrinth, a very old human kingdom that existed some 1500 years ago and is what is now a collection of small villages, the ancient structures of that dominion long since crumbled away to dust. Desmos was a magician working in the royal court who had been tasked, along with a group of knights, to deal with a growing demonic menace that had been plaguing their kingdom.”
Retsa paused as he seemed to turn a page in the imaginary book he was reading from, pausing his instruction to organize his thoughts. “After many weeks of journeying and tireless tracking, the group finally located the demons' lair. The demons were no match for the knights of Thekrinth, whose prowess was only heightened and made all the more deadly for it with Desmos' magical might.” All of the children unconsciously leaned forward, silently urging Retsa to continue.
“When the dust had settled and the demons lay slain to soak in their own festering juices, the knights of Thekrinth rejoiced in their victory. Cheers rang through those dark caverns as the knights roared their success to any demons left alive who would dare challenge them. But Desmos alone remained impassive.”
“Why? They won, didn't they?” wondered Gilean.
“Maybe there were other demons in the cavern. Or maybe there was another lair?” suggested Elphias.
“Nah, it was probably because not everyone on his side made it out okay.” interjected Felia knowingly.
Getting into the discussion, Gilean was about to give another possible explanation when Anaya spoke up, “Maybe, we should let Teacher Retsa finish explaining.” glaring at the three of them as she did so.
Abashed, the three children looked towards Retsa who sat there quietly as always, although some amusement glittered in his eyes.
“Sorry for interrupting, Teacher...” said the three of them with downcast voices.
“All is forgiven. Rather I approve of the fact that you are all thinking critically.” said Retsa, as the three raised their heads up in disbelief. “Although in the future, let us save such discussions for the end of the lesson.” nodding in Anaya's direction so that she knew that he appreciated her effort in not delving off into a tangent. Anaya appeared to be mollified which caused Gilean, Elphias and Felia to all sigh in relief.
“Now, as to why Desmos did not revel with the rest of the men, was because he had still not found out where the demons were coming from.”
“Why was that so important? Were demon attacks so rare back then, Teacher?” questioned Reval.
Retsa's eyes glowed with satisfaction, “You are right to question this part of the tale. Demon sightings were not so uncommon back then: In fact, from all accounts, such instances occurred with only slightly less frequency than the Era of Ethos. What was strange however was the number of demons and the regularity of attacks.”
Pausing, Retsa clarified more fully, “Demon attacks are infrequent and occur in very different places from each other; this is as true today as it was back then. But for this particular cropping of demons is that no matter how many were killed, they always re-appeared in the same general area with increasing frequency. Up until that point in time, no one knew where demons originated from. Because of the uniqueness of the situation though, Desmos believed that he would be able to finally solve this age-old mystery.”
Retsa's face darkened and even though sunlight filled it's interior, all of the children shivered from a chill that had somehow entered the room. “It was after several hours of searching the labyrinthine network of caves that Desmos made a grisly discovery. There, somehow pinned to the cavern wall, in the rough outline of an archway, were the bodies of dozens of humans. All around that bloody mural, Desmos and his knights saw the telltale tracks of demons leading away from the arch. More than that, Desmos felt a sickening, dark magic emanating from the arch. But Desmos was either a very courageous, or very foolish man, for he alone stepped forward towards that arch.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Why?” said Reval ashen-faced, “It was clearly evil. Why not just destroy it and be done with it!” demanded Reval, looking around the room to see his friends emphatically agreeing with him.
“Because Desmos had taken an oath.” said Retsa simply, “He was a rare man of incredible integrity, But it was more than that; he needed to know what that arch was, for he alone had the expertise needed to deal with it. And so he drew closer to that gruesome design, until suddenly-” the children jumped at the sudden change in Retsa's voice, “A bloody hand shot out from within the archway and dragged him through.”
“What did he see?” asked Stilvan, fear infecting his voice.
Retsa obliged Stilvan as he continued, “When Desmos regained his senses, he found himself in a completely different land: All around him, raging fires covered a desolate land, and the skies were filled with different stars and moons. But the most prominent sight of all was that this land he was in was filled to the brim with the unearthly creatures he had been fighting. Demons of all sizes and shapes stalked the land, seemingly without care for the fires that burned all around them, as they passed through the inferno harmlessly. Before any of the demons took notice, Desmos immediately went back through the portal he had came through, explaining all he had seen to his knights and urging them to get reinforcements from the kingdom.”
“While there have never been any other recorded instances of gates, there are other accounts with very similar descriptions of that world. Although these are descriptions of people who accidentally visited the world through breaches.”
“Breaches?” repeated Elphias.
“Breaches are the most common ways that Demons, and various other creatures, can get into our world.” explained Retsa patiently, “As for the other creatures,” he added with a forestalling glance at Felia who had opened her mouth to ask another question. “We will discuss another time.”
“What do breaches look like, Teacher?” asked Carissa.
Retsa gave a low chuckle as he sadly shook his head in regret, “That's a rather difficult question to answer. Breaches by nature, are not visible by any normal means: You have to know where to look for one and also know the proper spell to make its presence known. The details of this spell will be covered in our next session though.”
“Do breaches appear in certain kinds of places?” asked Anaya.
“Indeed they do. It seems that the most prevalent places for breaches are those places where there has been an abundance of death and magical energies.”
“Like the sites of old battlegrounds.” pointed out Reval.
“Very good. Yes, such sites are nexuses for the emergence of breaches.”
“But if breaches were far more common than gates, why is it that Desmos was the first person to give a written account of the Demon World?” interjected Gilean.
Smiling, Retsa gave one of his approving nods and explained, “Because breaches are also incredibly unstable. Until that point, the leading theory among the races of the world was that demons were the corporeal form of spirits driven mad by their own deaths.” Retsa saw that many of the children wore condescending smirks and he lightly reprimanded them with a stern tone, “You think it silly, but if I did not tell you beforehand that there was a world of demons, would you have come up with a better explanation?”
Their grins fading, the children guiltily acknowledged that their own reckonings would have probably been worse. “Ignorance should never be mocked; only corrected. Give your knowledge freely to those would benefit from it.” chided Retsa.
“We hear your words and our own faults, and will take it into our hearts, Teacher.” chorused the children, giving the standard from of apology indicating understanding and regret over one's actions.
“As it should be.” said Retsa, although his voice and face regained their gentle features. “Back to your question now then, Gilean. The reason as to why there were no written accounts of the demon world is that because of their atypical location and invisible form, there was a very low probability of anyone accidentally wandering through them. And when they did, if they managed to return that is, tell people of what they'd seen, what do you think people would have said about such a person?” asked Retsa; directing an inquisitive glance towards the children.
“...I'd think he was crazy.” admitted Elphias.
“As would I” agreed Retsa. “In addition, because breaches don't last very long, even if a person managed to lead a person to the exact, precise point where it was; all they would find was empty air. And the person's sanity would be further cast into doubt.”
“Are breaches visible on the other side?” asked Gilean.
“It seems that they are as imperceptible in the Demon world as they are in our own by other tales. Thus, it could entirely be possible that there are many breaches out there that have yet to be discovered by either side.” finished Retsa, as he allowed that statement to sink in. “Now, our next topic will be on the Demonic Hierarchy which is comprised of seven different ranks of demons: From the lowly drusen to the Four Princes. For the rest of the class we'll be covering Drusen, Fiends and Titans. Now, who can tell me an example from each?...”
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After a quick repast, the children were all gathered around in a clearing very similar to the one they were playing tag in earlier that morning. Gilean was surprised at how long they were in Retsa's class, for it was already well past noon by the time they had finished. Gilean was going through some basic stretches next to the two he most often played with: Anaya and Elphias were both doing similar routines to his own. Surveying each child's moments and making sure they were stretching properly, was the Fighting Instructor Meera, who was patiently correcting postures in a cool and detached manner. Many people, including other elves, would have been shocked to see that attached to each child's waist was a very real sword (properly fitted to a shorter length) resting in plain sheathes.
Behind the children and around their sides were a series of heavy-looking, thick wooden post driven into the ground. Closer inspection would reveal that their weathered appearance could be attributed to the numerous cuts and dents covering their exterior.
“Warm-up time is over.” dully said Meera, and the children immediately stopped stretching to give Meera their undivided attention. “About-face and walk forward to a post. Make sure to give each other at least five meters of room on either side of yourselves.” With fluid movements, born of many days of constant repetition, the children made a 180 degree turn and marched towards the posts.
“Draw.” said Meera curtly. A loud hiss split the air as seven swords were pulled from their sheaths. The swords brightly shined in the afternoon sun, held aloft in a ready position with the flat end of the blade facing towards the children. Gilean eyed the blade with some trepidation, despite all the times they had repeated this ritual. This was by no means a practical way of holding the sword, its only merit lay in showy performances by fools. The reason they did it was so that each child would understand with their own eyes that neither the edges nor the tip of the blade was blunted. This was a real blade. It was not a fancy decoration as those silly human knights seemed to believe. This was something made only for killing.
Seriously, we get it. How many times do we have to keep doing this? This nonchalant thought helped to dispel some of Gilean's unease. Not by much, though.
“Form 6. 100 times to the beat.” ordered Meera as she started to clap her hands together in a steady rhythm, indicating the tempo they needed to keep. Form 6 was an upwards slant followed by a horizontal cut and ended with a backhand slice as soon as the horizontal slash was finished. There were 164 forms and Meera had driven all of them relentlessly into their bodies over the past two years when they had reached their 8th birthday. Gilean knew this harsh training was the bare minimum needed to be a proper member of Nevara'el, but he knew he and his muscles would be complaining soon enough. In his mind of course.
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The orange glow of the setting sun splashed across the lush grass and the children who laid sprawled upon it in exhausted heaps. Gilean thought, as he always did, that this was probably the most brutal session so far. Out of all 164 forms, there were three in particular that were probably the most demanding, which they were instructed to perform all in succession today. Then they did all of their routines again with their non-dominant hand. He lay there with his fellow victims sucking in great amounts of air into his battered body.
When his breathing had come somewhat under control, Gilean wearily sat up. Around him, his compatriots were also slowly regaining strength. Predictably, Anaya and Elphias were the first ones up along with him.
“Tough day like usual, eh Gilly?” remarked Elphias, trying to pass off the lesson as something easy, before ruining it with a gasp.
“You breathe any harder, you'll start sucking up the ground.” laughed Anaya, who wasn't in much better shape.
“Well 'Mother' Meera will never push us too far.” reminded Stilvan, who had recovered some energy as well. On cue, Meera returned carrying several white bundles balanced on one hand and a loop of leather where several wooden containers hung off of. Meera stopped by each child and handed them a towel and one wooden container with a short, “Good work.”
Gilean accepted the items gratefully and pressed the wonderfully cool towel to his sweat-soaked face. Gilean opened the container and gave a tentative sniff and was rewarded with a pleasant, fruity aroma. The liquid contents sloshed around in the container as he tipped it down his throat; feeling revitalized by the melon juice. “Mother” Meera wasn't nearly as stern as she appeared, which made the children love her all the more.
“Thank you, Teacher!” said the children, delighted when they saw Meera turn away slightly with pink cheeks.
“Don't thank me yet, we still have a run to finish the session.” replied Meera. “Well it's more like a light jog...But-but it's not because I feel that you deserved a rest! It's just that the workout was rather hard today and I feel a little bad about it...Anyway! Finish your drinks and then we'll go!” explained Meera hastily.
All of the children exchanged grins with each when Meera had her back turned. It was the same thing she said every time.
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Gilean sat on the branch with Veo, the elvnmas guard who was on duty this week as his legs dangled off the side. Out of all the guards, Veo was Gilean's favorite: Always quick with a interesting fact or joke, he always seemed to have something on hand. Today was unusual in that the two of them sat in a companionable, but watchful silence. Normally they'd be trading jokes with each other or chatting about something inconsequential. This often won them a very disapproving glare from the other guard, standing on the adjacent tree's branches.
Today was special however, as they were finally returning from their latest hunt. It was the longest they had ever gone and even with all of his friends to keep him company, Gilean still felt lonely at the end of the day when everyone else returned home to their families.
“They're late.” said Gilean worriedly, “Do you think something happened-”
“I'm sure they're fine.” reassured Veo quickly, “Better than fine probably. Those three are our strongest hunters after all.”
“Do you think they got held up by something?” asked Gilean, who was still worrying despite Veo's words. Various scenarios of ambushes and mortal injuries ran through his head.
“More like someone, probably.” snorted Veo. “That Silpherion is probably driving off all the elvalyara posted at the honor-guard with a stick. Seriously, what's so good about that guy...” grumbled Veo.
“Compared to you? Quite a bit.” remarked Lauren; the elvalya guard on duty with Veo. It was a customary ritual between the two who usually stood guard together. They had gotten so good at bickering with each other, that they could maintain their vigilant watch while crafting a verbal barb for the other. Normally Gilean would have laughed when this happened and enjoy the witty remarks they directed against each other. But now he sat anxiously on the edge of the branch, his eyes and ears straining to catch any glimpse or sound of the group he was waiting for.
The night wore on, filled only with the sounds of hooting owls, the soft rustles of rodents, and the quiet verbal sallies of Veo and Lauren. Finally, Gilean detected a change in the environment – or at least Veo and Lauren did, for Veo instantly cut off the remark he was delivering. Without any visible signal between the two, Veo and Lauren both fit an arrow to the strings of their bows simultaneously. The part of his mind that wasn't focused on the new arrivals was amazed at how Veo and Lauren reacted. Even now, Gilean still couldn't tell if anything was out there, but Veo and Lauren's actions assured him that there had to be something. Sure enough, far off into the distance, a group of bushes parted way as three shadowy figures slipped through.
“Halt.” commanded Lauren.
“Identify yourselves if you don't want to be turned into a pincushion.” added Veo as he drew back on the bowstring.
“Why, is there an actual archer who's going to shoot us?” answered one of the figures sardonically.
“Don't push it, Silphy.” warned Veo, although both he and Lauren visibly relaxed as they returned their arrows to their quivers. Gilean's heart leaped when he heard that voice as the three figures moved into visual range. Pulling his legs up, Gilean ran down the length of the branch and scampered down it to its base. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he ran towards the group and enveloped the one who had spoken in a tight embrace.
“You're late.” mumbled Gilean, his voice was muffled as it was pressed against the tunic of the elvnmas. Gilean pulled back suddenly when he felt something sticky on his face; his vision focused and he saw his hand was stained red when he pulled it back from his face. “You're hurt! What happened? Are Mother and Father...?!” panicked Gilean only to be cut off by his father.
“Calm down, Gilean. It's not our blood.” reassured Silpherion. The only elvalya in the group flitted over to Gilean's side with a small handkerchief already in her hand. One hand was firmly placed atop his head to stop him from squirming as she patiently cleaned his face. Satisfied with her work, she kissed Gilean on his forehead and squeezed him tightly.
“I missed you, my dear Äeoil .” whispered his mother, calling him by her pet name for him.
“Me too.” returning the hug with equal strength. As soon he broke off from his mother's embrace, his father swept him into an equally tight one.
“You weren't thinking of leaving me out, were you?” grinned his father.
“That would be the smart decision.” quipped his brother, his laugh cut off short as Father delivered a lightning-fast slap to the top of Silpherion's head.
“Always with the fast mouth, eh, Silphy?” taunted Veo from above the family.
“Better than someone who always releases his arrow too early. You certainly won't be getting a wife anytime soon.” retorted Silpherion.
“...Wanna go?” asked Veo dangerously.
“Bring it.” replied Silpherion just as curtly. Silpherion's body shimmered briefly as he disappeared from the ground to re-appear in the next instant behind Veo. However a long history between the two prepared Veo for Silpherion's attack. Along with Lauren, the three of them were old friends, and the fights between Veo and Silpherion were a familiar sight within the village. As such, the three left on the ground ignored the duo and made their way towards the village.
“You have insulted me for the last time, Silphy! I challenge you to fisticuffs!” shouted Veo.
“Very well, I accept your challenge Vee-Vee!” answered Silpherion. The two immediately engaged in a slap-fight with each other.
“Excellent form Elphy! You trying to bed me or fight me?!” taunted Silpherion, the slapping sounds beating after each other in rapid succession.
“Not into that sort of thing Silphy! Or do you prefer the name 'Sylphiette'?” retorted Veo. Their arms becoming blurs as the slap fight intensified, the eternal conflict between the two raged on without any signs of slowing down.
“...Knock it off!” yelled Lauren. Two wonderfully powerful and wickedly fast straight punches were delivered to the sides of the competing males by the glowering female. The legendary battle between the two elvnmaga was brought to its inevitable conclusion by the elvalya once again.
As Gilean and his parents walked away from the tree without much care, the sounds of Lauren harshly berating his brother and Veo could be heard piercing the night air. Gilean's father picked him up and placed him on his shoulders, as Gilean started chattering away excitedly of what they had missed.
“Were you feeling lonely at all?” teased his mother.
“Not at all!” assured Gilean.
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Languages of Eberron
The main language used within the world is known as Common, which for all intents and purposes, is English. There are many languages in this world however and several that I will be using. At the end of every chapter, if the need is there, I will post a kind of dictionary of what each of the terms and phrases mean.
The Elven Language
Äeoil: The name of the star that shines the most brilliantly over Nevara'el.
Elvnmas (Pl. Elvnmaga): Male elf
Elvalya (Pl. Elvalyara): Female elf
Alya: Female
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