“They use us as nothing more than fuel, and see us with contempt at best, Marcel,” Theon spoke, guiding his grandson through the camp. It was time for him to learn more about their history and what dangers could lurk out in the world.

“The elves have a terrible fate, of that there can be no doubt,” he continued, allowing his words to sink in.

“Then why don’t we help them, papa?” Marcel asked, trying to reconcile what he’d been taught with what he heard. “You always said that we should try to be generous to those in need?”

“Of course, but what else did I say?” He waited for Marcel’s response; there could be no rushing learning and this was a lesson that had to be known.

“You said. . .” Marcel stopped walking and tilted his head back, his chin high to the sky as he imitated his grandfather, “. . . be generous, but the clan always comes first.” Marcel pounded his chest, teasing Theon.

“You take after your father too much, grandson,” Theon laughed as they started walking on once more. “Yes, you were listening. Listen carefully now, then.”

He stopped again suddenly and looked Marcel straight in the eyes as he lectured, “The elves have done more good in the past than we will ever know: they traveled the Grey Realm and taught magic and medicine;mediated conflicts, helped entire peoples grow and establish themselves, and made alliances between most of the peoples in the Grey Realm. Even as the elves did all this good, they developed themselves as well.”

“The elves had a mighty kingdom built upon shining mountains and no one could or would even try to harm them. Not only were they allied with quite a few peoples, their immortal lives gave them the opportunity to master magic, medicine, combat, smithing, construction, and so many more crafts. This left them with almost an entire population of expert warriors and nearly impenetrable defenses,” - he silenced Marcel’s questions with a look - “but that time has passed. They are hunted now-”

“By the apex. I know, papa, I know! But we can handle them! We are mighty!” Marcel pounded his chest, pride rising within him like the red glow of Hargrithe - deadly pride.

“Marcel - no.” Theon silenced his grandson, and a hint of the horrors that haunted his deepest fears flashed for just a moment on his face. “No, Marcel. What we fight are just the fodder. You see, the apex follow and hunt the elves. Our seers have gleaned some knowledge of their origins - but that is for another time. . .”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “Tell me, Marcel: do you think that the apex we fight are the same that could have toppled a mighty kingdom? That they could have fought the elven kingdom Anosora at its prime? When magic was plentiful in our realm and they had so many allies?” Theon waited patiently for Marcel to think it over.

Marcel didn’t need to think it over; he knew his papa used that tone when the answer was no, but he didn’t know why. He shook his head and waited for Theon to continue.

“The eclipse are the reason the elves started to die off. The apex that could block out the sun - so large as to defy reason - were the ones that blocked the light of Anosora and smothered it forever. They hunt for the elves solely, and they are death incarnate.” Theon stared up at the peaceful sky.

“The elves are no longer the benevolent neighbors they once were. They are eternally hunted and that makes them desperate. It is our blood that powers their magic now and without it they are exposed to all apex. Until the day comes that the apex are gone, we must keep the elves away even if we have to kill them. Do you understand me, Marcel?” Theon looked at Marcel and something changed in his expression; it no longer felt like a memory and the white fog crept in around him, much like the ritual he’d invoked to save Trent. A tightness took hold in his chest and cold sweat started to prickle on his skin.

“You have to run. You don’t have much time. Don’t stand and fight like your father did. Don’t underestimate the eclipse.” A darkness began to drown out the fog, smothering it until nothing was left but the abyss.

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“Flee to survive; keep your children close.”

Marcel gasped awake, choking on his breath, and groaned as a pounding headache reverberated in his skull. One of his eyes was swollen shut and the aroma of pungent ointment filled his nostrils. The dim light of the tent let him take a drink of water from a bowl nearby. He tried to stand up, but found it difficult to balance and had to wince and catch himself when he finally managed to get upright.

The dream left a lingering feeling of nervousness like a little tingle gnawing its way into fear and he refused to ignore the feeling.

“Trent . . . Yinny. . .” he spoke through the pain of his jaw, the swelling making it even harder to spit out the right sounds. Someone shuffled outside at the sound and Marcel looked up to see a worried face looking back at him.

“Chief! You’re awake.” Clarent strode into the tent and was quick to brace Marcel before his unsteady feet could betray him.

“. . . must leave,” Marcel winced even as he spoke, but stepped forward toward the tent opening. Clarent looked at him with confusion, but supported Marcel out anyways.

“. . . get Kaina . . . now!” Marcel growled the last word and braced against the support beam on the outside of the tent. He shoved the centaur weakly and his sense of urgency finally overcame Clarent’s confusion and he jolted forward and ran to find Kaina. The nearby camp stirred at Marcel’s order and some began to approach with a mixture of worry and relief. As they began to ask questions, he shook away the grogginess and resolved himself to power through the pain that shocked through his jaw every time he tried to speak.

“Get everyone. We must evacuate,” Marcel gasped, “Grab what you can. We leave quickly.” He looked up to his people. “Go spread the word. To the plains camp!” He gritted his teeth from the pain, only to immediately release the tension from the agony.

“An eclipse is coming! Go now!” He shouted as loudly and clearly as he could, projecting his voice through the camp and shocking a few people out of their stillness.

Panic began to spread and the centaur began spreading out haphazardly, but Marcel heard a familiar voice pierce the air.

“You heard him: gather your families, get your supplies! We leave in ten! To anyone not here by then: get to the plains camp!” Kaina commanded. All at once, the camp transformed into a hive of activity and Marcel was thankful that Kaina was reliable in a pinch. As she headed towards Marcel, she started to push and prod people who were too slow to respond.

Finally, she reached Marcel and braced herself strategically under his shoulder. To everyone else, it seemed she was calmly helping him move toward the edge of the camp, where Trent and Yinny were staying. To Marcel, it was clear that she was alarmed and had many questions for him. As they walked, she lowered her voice and asked urgently, “What’s happening?”

“Trent and Yinny first,” Marcel murmured in her ear, leaning heavily on her and taking the chance to recover from his earlier outburst. As they got closer to his children, not even the pain radiating through his body could stop him from speeding up, which Kaina was both frustrated and amused by. She was even more amused when they made their way into the tent and she witnessed their reunion.

“Dad!” Yinny and Trent shouted in unison as they rose quickly and hugged Marcel.

He groaned in happiness - and in pain - from their tight squeezes and took a moment to assess their state, though he knew Trent, at least, would be fully healed. Trent’s mane was colored silver in streaks from the ritual, and aside from that he seemed to be in the best condition of his life, even better than before. Yinny had bandages over minor scrapes, but her greater wounds had been healed as well. Her gold and green mane shone in muted greys, and she was healthy. It seemed that the eventful days had not changed them too greatly.

Kaina chuckled at Marcel’s inspection, teasing him, “You can take your time making sure they’re in perfect condition later, Marcel. It’s not like you can tell much in the grey light of Niedhawk, anyways. Besides, we have more to discuss. I support you, but I expect a little more to go off of than ‘an eclipse is coming’ as an explanation, given that I am your second-in-command.”

Marcel ignored her for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief that his children seemed fine and they would be together while they evacuated. Marshalling his thoughts, he turned partially toward Kaina and explained himself to her, Trent, and Yinny as clearly as he could.

“Theon came to me. . . in the fog. . .” Marcel had to gulp to ignore the pain, and even that made him wince, “. . . he told me to flee. He said one was coming. Even a mention of one is reason enough for me. We need to go now. No more time.”

Yinny and Trent glanced nervously at each other before grabbing up their backpacks and stuffing as much food as they could into them, moving quickly. Kaina and Marcel were both impressed at their swiftness and shared a look. Kaina’s face seemed to be bemused, but Marcel felt that he could understand their urgency. It seemed their recent near-death experiences had taught them not to hesitate - it was a lesson he wished he could have spared them from.

In any case, they were ready quickly and moving out of the tent without any further hesitation. As they left the camp, they joined a steady stream of their fellows. Though most of the centaur had heard about Marcel’s evacuation order second-hand, they moved with alert swiftness. Seeing Marcel, Kaina, Trent, and Yinny evacuating with them sped up some of the slower centaur and gave those already evacuating more certainty in the plan of action they were following.

The centaur kept as quiet as they could and stayed to the low-ground and dense foliage wherever possible, doing their best not to attract the attention of whatever it was they were retreating from.

The final centaur had long left the camp behind when they heard the sky-rending shriek of a massive monstrosity. Even with the distance they’d travelled, all of the centaur could hear and feel the impact of the cracking and shattering forest.

Marcel could imagine those massive trees coming down and knew that even a few of them would have claimed many lives on their own. Their evacuation to the plains would continue - the elves and eclipse had shown the forest to be too dangerous a place for now.

Thanks again, grandpa.