SAELYNA
Silver Stallion is the more popular of the two bars in the village. It is a short distance from our house, and that's where I'm headed.
When I step into the semi-dark room, I notice there are fewer people than there usually is. Then I recall most of them haven't returned from the Glade. They would anyway, anytime soon. And the last thing I want is Derrick Marwell talking again about how I had gotten drunk and danced off with Elwyn, so I must hurry about my business and get home soon.
I don't necessarily like drinking. Not really. It's the escape it offers, the temporary zone of stillness that baits me. Or baited me. Elves don't generally get drunk; the magic in our system is too strong, it dilutes it; but there are certain conditions that beg to differ.
Like when the magic in your body is weak and the drink in question, is Halden mead. It had happened, during the Fall Festival last year. I still hate thinking about that night with Elwyn. The memories alone should keep me off the bottle. Instead, it only dampened it.
Usually, Cyran is here to regulate how much I take. But since he's mad at me, I figure a couple of them would be great.
Quain looks up at me as I approach the bar. He's one of the few elves I grew up with that's still alive, and one of the fewer I call a friend. He flashes me a grin that would make most girls swoon. Not me. It just reminds me of the look on his face when he's dizzy. Or stoned. Most girls don't see that. 'Hey. How was today?' I perch in the stool and bow my head. 'The same. Except…' I look up and whisper, 'I got some kingpeas'.
The smile on his face disappears as fast as his genn, the hare. 'A jest', he says, 'A joke, right?' I hold his eyes for a while, long enough to let him know I'm not joking.
I almost laugh as he splutters and fumbles for words. He finally settles on a harsh whisper of 'Are you mad?' I shrug. 'Believe it or not, I've been asked that question today'. 'Well clearly, you told the person that you are'. 'You brought the information to me'. 'I didn't think you'd go and actually do it!' He exhales and touches his forehead. 'You cannot do that, Saelyna. Do you have any idea what happens to….' 'You think I don't know?!' I snap. I'm getting pissed, but he wouldn't see it. He'd only hear my voice quiver with emotion. 'No', he says softly, 'No you don't'. 'Look, I messed up last year, and….' I take a deep breath and try to control the tears, and my voice.
All I see is Cyran's fallen face, the open gate of the pasture and the King Forest. 'I messed up last Fall, and I'm just trying to atone. Please, Quain, I need to make things right'. He sighs. 'I know. This should have been the last thing you'd want to do'. 'You didn't see Cyran's face when he came back that morning. Like I had destroyed everything he worked so hard for…which literally, I did. He deserves more than that. I just want to pay him back'. Quain nods. 'Sycamore row, tonight, by 10. Don't be late'. He turns back to cleaning glasses. 'What can I get you?' he asks. 'A mug of ginger ale'. I suppress a groan at the sound of that voice. Honestly, he's the last person I want to see right now.
Elwyn Nordinger slips into the stool next to me effortlessly and flashes me a smile. 'Hello there', he says in a smooth Sneyan accent, 'Long time no see'. Now there's no avoiding him.
I'd been keeping away from Elwyn for a very long time now. It was easier the last couple of months; he had won the Kings Hunt and went away to Qarax for his reward.
Now he's back. And he's here, next to me, where he definitely should not be. 'You ok?' he asks. I straighten slowly and manage to glance at him.
He looks different, and I expected that. His hair is separated into two long, carefully plaited braids. His skin has taken on a brown tan. He wears a silk crimson coat that smells of olive incense, and the rings on his hand flash with the slightest movement.
He looks just like a High Lord and I wonder if it is possible to loathe him any more than I do now.
'I'm fine. That is, until you came along', I tell him. In reply, he chuckles dryly and says, 'Right. Good one there'. Quain returns with two foaming mugs of ale and sets it in front of us. Right on his heels, is Foden, the fat, squat proprietor.
He stops on sighting Elwyn and calls out a greeting. 'Gods peace be with you, Elwyn!' He reaches over and shakes his hand vigorously, like they have been friends for ages. 'Nice to see you too, Foden. How is business?' Elwyn asks calmly. 'Good, good. Do stay a while though, will you? Only, Brin Dalox and Jimmy Casta wished to see you and hear news from Qarax. I'm sure a great many feel as well. You haven't exactly been very conversational of late', Foden says. 'Ah yes. Indeed. I've been only three days, Foden. I'll entertain these noble men with my experiences at the capital, but for now, I wish to speak only to Saelyna'. Foden stares at me, back at Elwyn, then back again. 'Aye', he says at last, his beady eyes glinting with some mischievous thought, 'There must have been a reason for your return'.
Before I can say anything to counter his misjudgement, he dons his hat and shrugs on his coat. 'Well, I'm off to the council meeting. There's been raveners near the west wings. Dead sheep…Gods peace be with us..' He shudders and then looks up, like he just realized he had been speaking aloud. 'Apologies…' 'Raveners?' I ask. 'Indeed…but you need not worry, Saelyn'. To Elwyn, he says, 'Drinks' on the house'. Then he takes up his cane and, tipping his hat to us, heads out the bar.
'That was strange'. I don't hear what Elwyn says next, though.
Raveners. Flesh rippers and blood suckers. The tales surrounding their kind was restricted to the Leftydes, mostly thought of as myths. Of course I knew they were not myths. I just never imagined they'd come this far south.
Elwyn touches my arm and I jerk out of my revery. 'You don't look good. What's the matter?' I pull my arm away. 'I don't want to talk to you, Elwyn. Surely, you should have realized that by now'. He nods. 'Why is that?' Oh I don't know, because you're a living reminder of how I fucked up last Fall? 'Elwyn, we don't have anything. Ok? We were just drunk that night, and acted on impulses we could not control. It should never have happened. At all', I say. He bristles at this. 'Is it about the farm? I could pay back…' 'Elwyn!' I snap, 'I don't want to have anything to do with you, alright? We got drunk, we fucked, then got drunk again and did things I don't even want to remember! That's all. And that's it. Ok? Nothing more. Gods, just leave me alone'.
I must have been loud, because half the bar is quiet now. I don't care, not really. It felt good to get it out.
I don't look at Elwyn as I call Quain and order a bottle of malt wine. Little alcoholic contents, but enough to numb the pain a bit. And to help me think.
When I step into the street, I see people come down the street in little groups. They are just arriving from the Glade, I realize,and the majority are headed here.
I turn and walk towards the village green. It's a longer route back to the cottage, but I have no interest in running into any other person; desirably or not.
Hunting is a remedy of its own. The adrenaline coursing through your veins as you pull the string, the focus of all the senses on the creature about to be snuffed out, the dire hope that the arrow will strike its target. It's what I turn to when I don't want to think. Or at least, it was.Saelyna had been gone thirty minutes before I realized we were running low on meat. I found it a pleasant excuse to go into the woods, and that is exactly what sets me on the knoll overlooking the village, and cutting around the King's Forest.It wasn't always called that. Before the Rebellion, it was Halden Woods, named after the village. If the elves of this village were not the spearhead of the attack on the state, well, the forest would have remained what it was; a space for all. And my parents would still be alive.I begin my descent into the first from the south side, where I'm sure few of the guards would be. Tales spun by village folk about dead and vengeful spirits hiding out in these parts
SAELYNAMy alternative route inevitably takes me through the major parts of the village. I try to remember what Halden had looked like before the Rebellion. It's harder these days. The memories now come in snatches and bits, but enough for me to know the place has changed by a great margin.It used to be a giant sprawling town, the majority of its inhabitants being elves. We were of one mind, united by our magic. Unlike others in Quindar who had to be bound to certain animal spirits in order to channel magic, we derived ours from plants, the best of them being on Mount Ides.I remember the songs and the dances performed before spring fires, the annual hunts and the pilgrimage to Mount Ides for our magic renewal, and evenings like this, when my parents would take us to the town hall to watch a play or two. Halden was among the last towns before the Borderlands, and among the largest in the north.Until some genius decided that we were too strong to be ruled by some "deer-spirit-channel
CYRANThe sound of galloping hooves reach my ears, long before the horse and its rider pull up in front of the cottage. 'Cyran!'Oh hell, it's her.Given the circumstances, I'm supposed to be grateful or something, but it occurs to me that Saelyna would try to heal me with magic. I know the wound has gone too far; I've bled out excessively, and I can't feel my arms. Anytime now, I'll go into shock.She crouches by my side, tapping my face in a bid to keep me awake. 'Cyran, look at me'. Her face swims in and out of my distorted vision. 'You're beautiful, Saelyn. You're the best of us', I tell her. I don't know if I mean it or not. I just have to tell her. 'Shut up, Cyran, shut up', she mutters, though her voice quivers too much. Then she yells out for help, loud enough to wake the forest. 'I have forgiven you, Saelyna. Don't beat yourself up over it anymore. I've done a lot of nasty things too, but you always covered up for me. You don't have to be the perfect one…' I cough out a gob o
SAELYNAThe row of sycamore trees that line the top of Halden Hill used to be a spot where town folk gathered in the evenings to relax and get together. Here, it's peaceful, especially at night. A clear view of the village is offered from this point, and one can see just enough of every corner of Halden. I dig my left toe into the grassy soil and twist up earth. I've been here for half an hour, but it's starting to feel like forever. I've bitten my nails to the stub, I can't mess with my hair any longer, so I'm on the edge of going wild with apprehension. A sudden sound makes me jump and turn around. Someone is coming up the hill, slowly and deliberately. I duck around a tree, listening to my heart thumping wildly, as he summits the crest. He's wearing a black hood and a cloak. They've found me, then. The mages have tracked the magic. I brace myself to bolt at the slightest slip. I can't outrun a mage, but I have the advantage here, given that I'm an elf. I'm about to spring down t
SAELYNACyran places a finger on his lips when our eyes meet. He doesn't need to tell me. Even Ima has gone dead silent.Floorboards creak as whoever it is walks into the house. My palms tingle with anticipation and magic. Cyran is crouched by the doorway, his bow and arrow in place. Nothing moves except the intruder in the kitchen.Then Camille stumbles into the kitchen and I release a breath. Cyran frowns upon spotting her. 'What are you doing here?' he growls. Her face flushes on spotting his annoyed expression. 'Sorry. Just wanted to say farewell. Quain told me…' She shakes her head and holds my gaze for a while before she grabs me in a bone-crushing hug. 'You're one of the best persons I know, Sae. Please stay safe and strong', she sobs.I've had my fill of crying for one night so I gently push her away. 'Ima', I say, 'Please take care of her'. Camille nods quickly. I know she will, we brought the panther up together. I rub Ima's ears one last time, and square my shoulders. 'See
On the bright side, we are not dead. Worst case scenario, we don't know where we are. But Xanwed hasn't gotten us, that much is certain.Cyran is awake, and looking at me with a queer expression. 'What is it?' I ask, sitting up. It requires a lot of effort than usual, and a headache begins as I do. 'I saw your dream again', he says quietly. 'Cyran, you said you'd stop', I say resignedly. 'I did stop. Last night it just filtered in. Your mind is fucked up, Saelyna'. I don't want to talk about the crazy dream I had, where Jerran and I were back together. The twist was that we both were wolf-genn.Most times I try not to think about the guy that jilted me. Other times, I bring myself to. That way I have someone to blame everything on. That way, I can allow myself to feel emotion.I take time to examine our prison. It's a room, but it has six corners and the air inside here is colder than usual. For some reason as well, I can't summon the magic like I did back in the woods. And I can't se
SAELYNAHe looks different. The coat's still black as night, but his hair is slicker and everything about him seems forced. He smells like Elwyn.I don't trust the smile he gives me, it's too casual, too fake. Too wolfish. I knew I'd see him again. I never imagined it would be like this. I never thought he'd be a wolfen.I dust my bottoms as I stand up. If I have to escape, I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. And be a good actor. 'A settlement of wolvens', I say, 'I presume we are here to be eaten, then'. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and the smile falters a little. 'Ok', he replies, the fake smile still in place, 'I have somewhere to be, so…do what you like, which is not much, considering the circumstances. I don't care, not really'.He turns to go, which is quite fine by me, but Cyran calls out and rises. 'Do not be offended by my sister. She's…well, just not on terms with wolvens kidnapping elves'. The man in black waves a dismissive hand. 'Whatever you think, I already care
CYRAN I take steps torward him, attempting to put myself between him and my sister, when Caivan rounds on him in a flash. 'Where were you?!' he snarls, 'And why the fuck would you keep them in the store room like animals?!' The silver coated man doesn't flinch, he stares at Caivan squarely, assuming a straighter stance. 'Instinct. Precaution against possible escape. Perhaps if you were here in person, you would have done it your way…' He doesn't finish. Caivan moves like lightening, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the wall of a nearby hut. Struggle as he could, he could not get the larger man's hand off his jugular. 'I let you go once. Cross me again, Ronn, and there'll be no third chances', Caivan says calmly, like he was having a lively conversation and wasn't choking a person. The sight is horribly satisfying, because I see the fear in his eyes, the same one he must have seen in mine. 'Caivan, enough!' snaps Veesa. He holds on for three seconds longer before he relea