Juraviel figured that he was about to get some answers - and likely none that he wanted to hear! - when a hulking form came up beside him, down by his legs, stiff arms reaching out to him!
Panic welled in Juraviel, but was soon overwhelmed by anger - anger at himself, mostly, for the elf knew then that he had done wrong in standing beside Brynn. He should have run off to report this atrocity to Lady Dasslerond; all of his people might be threatened now because of his miserable failure.
„Hefle!“ came a shout, a word that sounded vaguely familiar to Juraviel. When the zombie halted and lowered its arms, the elf understood the word more clearly, for it sounded like an offshoot of the elven word „hefele,“ which meant, „desist.“
Juraviel craned his neck again, straining to get a look at the speaker, and when he did, his eyes went wide indeed! For there, standing beside him, were a pair of creatures, a male and female, of similar stature to his own. Their hair was dark, black like a raven’s wing, and the eyes of the male seemed like an inky black pool, while the other’s were the lightest shade of blue a stark and startling contrast to her black hair. They had no wings, as lid the Touel’alfar, but their features were similarly angular and pro-ounced. Juraviel’s own skin had been tanned under the sun, but these two looked as if they had never seen the sunlight, their skin chalky white, almost luminescent in the gray fog.
The female starred hurling words Juraviel’s way. Questions, he supposed, or threats, but the creature was speaking too fast for him to catch up to the meaning^ thelnterrt-
But then he did catch a word, „intruder,“ and another, „thief,“ and he was surprised indeed when he paused long enough to recognize that the creature was speaking to him in his own tongue! Or in a tongue that resembled that of the Touel’alfar, both in specific wording and in the various inflections that could be placed on any word.
The female continued to ramble, with Juraviel’s ears keeping pace with the flow of the words now, and the elf truly understood that the danger was far from past, that these two, and their kinfolk, apparently, were not pleased that he and Brynn had stumbled onto their land. The creature spoke of „the severest of penalties“ for the human woman and mentioned that they might kill Juraviel instead of that worst of fates if he cooperated appropriately.
Finally, Juraviel had recovered his wits enough for him to look the rambling and outraged creature in the eye, and say, „We meant no harm.“
Both creatures fell back, their eyes going wide. The female stammered over a few syllables, while she trembled, with nerves, with rage, with… something.
„Who are you, who know my language?“ Juraviel said, trying to use inflections similar to those the creatures had used, though his tone was obviously far less confrontational.
The pair looked at each other curiously, as if trying to sort through the question. They each repeated the last word, „language,“ several times, shaking their heads and wearing confused expressions.
Juraviel rattled off several synonyms and tried to explain what he meant, and the thought came clear to the pair.
„Who are you who know our… language?“ the one with the dark eyes asked.
„Who are you?“
„Who are you?“ the two demanded in unison.
Belli’mar Juraviel lay back on his branch and closed his eyes, trying to sort out the web of confusion and surprise. Could it be? the elf wondered. Was it possible? He took a deep breath, and answered, knowing full well that he was taking a great chance here, „Touel’alfar. I am Touel’alfar.“
„Tylwyn Tou!“ the female cried, her bright eyes going wide, and her tone made it sound like an accusation.
Belli’mar Juraviel looked at her directly. If this was what he now suspected, then he certainly understood that tone. In times long past, the Touel’alfar and these creatures, the Doc’alfar, had lived together as one race. But the primary difference in the elves, the fact that some were adorned with wings while others were not, had caused strife among the people. Add to that a devastating disease that had afflicted the elves without wings for some reason, but not their cousins, and the elven peoples of Corona had been split apart, Touel and Doc.
Juraviel didn’t blink, but neither did he frown or show any intentions of intimidation. He was walking a fine line, he knew, balancing on a perch where a fall would cost him his life - and cost him any chance at all to save Brynn, if she was even still alive.
„Doc’alfar,“ Juraviel said quietly, and as the elf mouthed the word, he became even more certain that he should have abandoned Brynn in the initial fight.
„Tylwyn Doc,“ the male corrected, calmly, though his companion seemed as if she was about to leap forward and throttle Juraviel.
„Tylwyn Doc,“ Juraviel conceded.
„And you are Tylwyn Tou,“ said the elf with the bright eyes.
„We name ourselves Touel’alfar, but I accept Tylwyn Tou.“
„You accept?“ the female said with a snort. „Have you a choice?“
Juraviel merely shrugged, or tried to, for his bindings were too tight for such movement.
„What is your name?“ the male demanded.
„Belli’mar Juraviel,“ he answered without hesitation.
„Where have you come from?“ the female snapped.
Juraviel tightened his lips. „I am Belli’mar Juraviel,“ he said again, aiming the words at the male, who seemed the more reasonable of the two.
The male Tylwyn Doc stared at him hard for a short while, then said, „I am Lozan Duk.“ he paused and looked to his companion, as did Juraviel.
The Tylwyn Doc with the remarkable light eyes didn’t look at her companion, but continued to stare ominously at Juraviel. „Cazzira,“ she said at length. „Know that your doom is named Cazzira, Belli’mar Juraviel.“
The elf’s question came out simply, „Why?“
Cazzira narrowed her bright eyes, her face tightening with anger.
„You have intruded where you do not belong,“ Lozan Duk explained. „The Tylwyn Doc make no exceptions.“
Juraviel pondered that for a bit. „You routinely execute any who wander onto your land, though you have no warning markers to ward intruders away? „
„Warning markers would tell the world where we are, would they not?“ Cazzira asked with biting sarcasm. „Perhaps we do not want the world to know.“
Juraviel lay back again, considering the words, trying to figure out what going on, and what steps he might take, what words he might say to try calm the situation.
„° „Where is my companion?“ he asked. „Brynn Dharielle is her name. A trained by the Touel’alfar and returning to her home beyond the Stains. She poses no threat to the Tylwyn Doc.“ „She is being prepared for the bog,“ Lozan Duk answered matter-of-
aC“All humans are given to the bog,“ Cazzira eagerly added. „We throw them in, and then^our priests return them to us as slaves.“
A shudder coursVd Juraviel’s spine. He pictured Brynn as one of those „slaves,“ an undead monstrosity under the complete control of these
creatures.
„We have not taken much of the land as our own,“ Lozan Duk explained. „But that which is ours, we guard with all diligence.“
Those words rang true to Belli’mar Juraviel, for his own people held beliefs not so different. The Touel’alfar guarded Andur’Blough Inninness fanatically. They didn’t often kill intruders, because their elven magic, along with Lady Dasslerond’s emerald gemstone, could make those who wandered onto their lands forget the way. But if there was any doubt - if the intruder learned too much about the Touel’alfar, if a ranger, perhaps, failed in his training - then Juraviel knew that Dasslerond would not hesitate to kill the human.
Juraviel thought of Aydrian at that moment, for the young ranger had been walking a fine line for some time. Another shudder coursed through him.
„You cannot do this,“ Juraviel said suddenly, hardly thinking before he blurted the words. He craned his he
ad up again, staring at the two intently. He read Lozan Duk’s expression as one of sympathy, though Cazzira’s tightened features showed little understanding.
„There is a possibility here,“ Juraviel went on. „How many centuries have passed since our peoples were torn asunder?“
„Since the Tylwyn Tou expelled the Tylwyn Doc from their lands, you mean,“ Cazzira remarked.
„Who can know the truth of that distant past?“ Juraviel replied. „Perhaps you are right - there was a plague, by all accounts. But whatever the truth, are we two peoples to be held prisoner by it?“
Cazzira started to respond, but Lozan Duk held his hand up before her. This is not our decision to make,“ he said. „King Eltiraaz will have much to say concerning your fate, Belli’mar Juraviel.“
„And what of Brynn?“ She is for the bog,“ Cazzira was quick to answer.
Juraviel shook his head defiantly. „Then that will be your error. And one the Touel’alfar will not soon forgive.“
You threaten us?“ asked the angry female.
„I speak honestly, and in the hope that this meeting need not be a tragedy. Brynn Dharielle - “
„Is a human, and we do not suffer humans who wander onto our lands to live!“
„Brynn Dharielle is a ranger,“ Juraviel calmly went on. „She is not like others of her race. She has been trained for many years within the home of
the Touel’alfar. She has been given an understanding of my - of our people that elevates her above her sorry kin. My people have placed much faith and responsibility in her. I tell you this now so that there will be no mistaking the implications if you proceed. I want you to hold no misconceptions on this point. Brynn Dharielle is Touel’alfar in all but heritage, and we protect our own as fiercely as do the Doc’alfar.“
Cazzira was tightening her angular features throughout his speech, and she winced visibly when Juraviel referred to her people using the title of his people and not hers.
„Are we to learn from each other, or are you to sever all possibilities of friendship and alliance before they are ever explored?“
Lozan Duk looked at his companion, holding the stare until Cazzira tore her glare away from Juraviel and returned the look. Then, with a glance at Juraviel, Lozan Duk motioned for Cazzira to follow him a short distance away, that they could speak in private.
Belli’mar Juraviel lay back and tried to sort through the amazing turn of events that night, trying to discern his responsibilities. Had he erred in so forcefully protecting Brynn? Perhaps his duty to his people demanded that he try to save himself, whatever the cost to Brynn, that he could flee back to the north and inform Lady Dasslerond that the Doc’alfar were very much real and alive.
No, Juraviel decided. He would not sacrifice Brynn. Not for himself, not for anyone. He intended to get out of this, and intended to have Brynn right beside him when he did.
Lying there, cocooned by an unyielding rope on a tree branch and with a powerful zombie hovering over him, Juraviel had to admit that intentions were a far cry from reality.
„Tell the priests to await the judgment of King Eltiraaz,“ Lozan Duk instructed Cazzira when they had moved away from their prisoner.
„His judgment concerning humans was rendered centuries ago,“ Cazzira protested.
Lozan Duk looked to Juraviel, then back to Cazzira. „He must speak with this one before rendering his judgment over the ranger.“
Cazzira stared at him hard.
„You know that I am correct in this,“ Lozan Duk replied. „King Eltiraaz would not be pleased if we proceeded after what this one has told us.“
He looked back at their prisoner, her hard look softening, and finally a helpless chuckle. „This is amazing,“ she admitted. „A legend walks our midst. Who can tell what that will portend for the Tylwyn Doc?“ 111 „Or the Tylwyn Tou?“ Lozan Duk added, nodding, and when he turned Cazzira, he saw that she was nodding, too. So many possibilities.
It hurt to move at all, but Brynn turned her head to the side and opened
She was lying onher stomach, on soft and smelly ground. It was a cave, she realized, as she turned her head more to regard the light hanging on the earthen wait Her gaze lingered there, for this was like no lantern the woman had ever seen. It had a short wooden handle and was capped by a slowing, blue-white globe, with no flames anywhere that Brynn could see.
She continued her scan as far as her aching neck and back would allow. Many, many small roots hung out of the walls and the ceiling, and it seemed to Brynn as if this whole place, however large it might be, had simply been torn out of the ground.
Brynn coughed, and her ribs felt as if they would break apart under the pressure!
Too weary and battered even to cry, the young ranger turned her face back toward the earth and slowly lowered her head back in place. She closed her eyes, wishing it was all just a nightmare, but knowing better. Knowing that she had failed, that she would not be the savior of her enslaved people.
Fitful dreams awaited her.
When the woman next opened her eyes, she was lying on her back, still bathed in the same bluish white light, and still in the small earthen cave.
„I thought that you would be more comfortable this way,“ came a sudden voice, and Brynn started, then groaned from the pain. Her panic was gone by the time she winced through the agony, for she surely recognized the voice of Belli’mar Juraviel. Slowly and with great effort, the young ranger managed to turn enough to glimpse her mentor, who sat at the side of the room, not bound, apparently.
‘They can animate the dead, but they have little in the way of healing magic,“ Juraviel mused, and it seemed to Brynn that he was talking more to himself than to her.
Hey?“ she managed to say, and her lips were so dry and parched that they hurt to move.
JJoc’alfar,“ Juraviel explained, coming over to her and putting a small waterskin to her lips. He poured, and Brynn tried to gulp the fresh water, but Juraviel quickly pulled it back.
Not too fast,“ he warned, bringing it forward and giving her another sip. „You have been asleep for a long time. If you drink too quickly, you will shock your body, to no good end.“
„How long?“
Juraviel looked around and shrugged. „Three days at least, I would guess, though time is not easy to measure in here.“
Three days, Brynn thought. But how had she and Juraviel escaped? And where was the pursuit, for how far might the diminutive elf have traveled with an unconscious woman to drag along?
Those questions swirled about in her thoughts for a short while, gradually blending in with the more general gray that seemed to permeate her thoughts, guiding her back to the realm of slumber.
She knew before Juraviel even told her that another day had slipped past. Biynn turned to the side, to where Juraviel had been - and still was - . sitting.
„Ah, Brynn, you have returned to me.“ As he spoke, Juraviel lifted the waterskin and came back to her, putting it to her parched lips.
„Help me to sit up,“ the young ranger said after taking a few sips and then a few deep breaths - breaths that showed her that her ribs were far from healed.
Juraviel was beside her in a moment, easing her into a sitting position, then helping her to turn so that she could put her back against the wall.
„I remember getting hit,“ she said after a lengthy pause. „I tried to fight back, but they were all about me. I tried…“
„You fought well, but the numbers were too great, and the creatures seemed nearly immune to our weapons.“
„How did we get out?“
Juraviel’s expression corrected her even before she had finished speaking the words. They had not gotten out of anything, and were obviously prisoners.
„What do they want of us? And what are they?“
„They - the ones who attacked us - were unthinking animations,“ the elf explained. „Zombies raised as an army by the Doc’alfar.“
„Doc’alfar,“ Brynn echoed, thi
nking that there was a familiar ring to the word, though she couldn’t place it.
„We have been through this all before,“ Juraviel said to her. „Though I would not expect you to remember it.“
„Doc’alfar?“ Brynn said yet again, for she understood the word to mean „the dark people,“ as Touel’alfar meant „the fair people,“ or simply, „the People.“
„In a time long past the longest memories of the eldest elves, there was but one race,“ Juraviel explained somberly, his eyes staring to the side, as if looking across the miles and the centuries. „Touel’alfar, or Tylwyn Tou. Some had wings, some not, and most of those who had wings had hair of gold and light eyes, while most of those who did not had dark hair and dark eyes.“
„These are your cousins, then,“ Brynn reasoned. She glanced all around. - And this is the home of…?“
„This is a prison, and nothing more.
„Rut they are of the People. You are kin and kind. Why would they treat
“Did I mention the banishment?“ Juraviel remarked, somewhat flippantly. „They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?“
Turaviel looked at her directly. „You, likely,“ he confirmed. „They are not overly fond of humans, it seems.“
Brynn considered the undead force that had come against them, human
zombies all.
„Though theyTnay keep me alive, Juraviel went on, tor information or for bartef, if evefthey should venture to find Lady Dasslerond and Andur’Blough InninnesV’
„Then we have to find a way to fight our way out of here.“
Turaviel shrugged and motioned to the side, to a dark hole in the floor, seeming barely wide enough to crawl into. „One tunnel, through which we’ll have to crawl, blocked at the one exit by a boulder and a host of zombies, to say nothing of any Doc’alfar who might be about. And I trust that my kin have not lost their proficiency in battle.“
Brynn’s shoulders slumped and her gaze fell to the floor. „I cannot die here,“ she said. „Not now. My people are in need and I will not forsake them!“ She finished with a snarl, but it was one, she knew, more of frustration than determination. For what could she and Belli’mar Juraviel do? They were overmatched, plain and simple, and so much so that there were no apparent options.
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