Triss peered out from the ashy bushes, waiting for his friend Gavilan to find him.  He had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes.  Glancing at the Arborlon palace on a sudden whim, he saw a red-haired figure step out, with a boy trailing silently after her.  Triss didn’t think that Eowen knew that she was being followed.  He laughed silently.  Eowen Cerise was a seer in training for the old king, Anloren Elessedil, and was the most beautiful girl that both Triss and Gavilan Elessedil had ever seen.  Gavilan, the king’s grand-nephew, had taken to following Eowen whenever she was around the palace, usually either coming or leaving her lessons with the old seer, Riame Peld.  After a while, Triss stopped laughing and began to get angry.  How many games had Gavilan abandoned to go follow the girl?  Too many, he thought.  He continued to watch Gavilan trail Eowen, his blocky face set and his blond hair rather dusty from romping around in the bushes.  His friend was bound to become king someday.  He had to.  After Anloren Elessedil was his daughter, Ellenroh, and after Ellenroh were Alleyne and Gavilan.  Alleyne was Ellenroh’s daughter.  Recently she had begun to make small trips to the Wing Rider’s secluded island.  Gavilan usually complained to Triss about this, how Alleyne got more freedom then him just because she was the king’s granddaughter.  Triss personally didn’t mind that Gavilan was stuck on Morrowindl; it ensured that he had someone to be with.  But when he talked to his friend, he said that it was unfair also.
    Triss had no royal blood in him.  He was an average Elf, with brown hair and brown eyes that seemed able to hide nothing.  The only thing really special about his family was that they were always Captains of the Home Guard.  His own father was one right now.  He was a descendent of Trewithen, a Captain in the time of Jerle Shannara.  Everyone knew the story.
    The Druid Bremen, with two friends traveling with him, Kinson Ravenlock and Mareth, had went to Dechtera to find a master smith to forge a sword that could destroy Brona, the Warlock Lord.  Urprox Screl forged the sword, with help from Bremen’s own magic.  After the forging was complete, Bremen traveled to the Hadeshorn where the Druids that were dead and gone had given the sword a single power: truth.  Bremen then proceeded to Arborlon to give it to the wielder, Jerle Shannara, therefore giving the sword the name of the Sword of Shannara.  This was all during the Second War of the Races, in which the Elves and Dwarves fought against the Trolls, Gnomes, and netherworld creatures that Brona had summoned.  Trewithen had taken part in this war.  When Jerle finally got a chance to do battle with the Warlock Lord, he used the Sword correctly at first, but at the last moment used it as he would any other weapon, therefore only destroying Brona’s physical body yet not his spirit.  Brona had lived on until Jerle’s descendent, Shea Ohmsford, had destroyed him.  There was a lot more to that story, but Triss didn’t feel like elaborating.
    He stared out at the palace again, watching Eowen walk towards the Gardens of Life with Gavilan following.  He saw the Black Watch stiffen as the duo arrived.  Home Guard materialized to greet the young prince.  Gavilan shooed them away and continued on.  Triss watched his father, Tomae, Captain of the Home Guard, fade back into the trees.  Triss couldn’t wait until he grew up so that he could be a Captain someday as well.  But he was still young, and being a Captain would have to wait.
    Triss crouched down again and waited some more.  He heard a rustle and turned around.  Suddenly, there was something on his back.  It was laughing.
    Knowing whom the attacker was, he blushed, and chided himself for not knowing that Gavilan was coming.
    The prince rolled off of Triss’ back, laughing.  “I got you for once,” he said happily.  “I thought you were better trained than that.”
    Triss assumed a haughty look.  “I thought that you had gone off stalking Eowen, so I wasn’t prepared.”
    Gavilan smiled.  “Ah, but in this time and place, life is about being prepared.  You never know when a Shadowen might breach the Keel and attack.”  He cringed from thinking about it.
    Triss sighed.  He knew that what Gavilan was saying was all too true.  “Following seers around isn’t going to help much, either,” he retorted.
    “I’m not trying to become a Captain of the Home Guard someday,” Gavilan said, shrugging.  “I’m just a prince.  Kind of.”
    Tomae appeared from the shelter of the trees, scaring Gavilan.  “Greetings, Prince.”  He nodded shortly to his son.
    “Father,” Triss said, bowing slightly.  Captains of the Home Guard commanded respect.  “Why are you here?”
    The Captain of the Home Guard stiffened slightly.  “There are reports of Shadowen trying to climb the Keel.  I’m just trying to see if any of them are in Arborlon.”
    “Again?” Gavilan hissed.  “Last time, they destroyed the marketplace!  Is the Rukh Staff ready?”
    Tomae shrugged.  “We can’t be using magic every time to get rid of them.  When the Staff loses its power, so will the Keel, and that would be the end of us.  It would be easier anyway simply to keep them out before they get in.”
    “Magic is the only means we have to destroy them!  You know that just as well as I do!”
    Triss’ father shook his head stubbornly.  “It’s not,” he said quietly.  He glanced at the sky and continued, “I have to finish patrolling the borders.  You two should go in now.”  With a curt nod, he continued to follow Arborlon’s perimeter.
    Gavilan looked at Triss.  “You know, you haven’t really seen the palace yet.  It’s about time you know the grandness of my home.”  He winked.
  If only anything could be grand in this dreary place, Triss thought.  “Okay,” he said.  Gavilan stood up and chose a walkway that led towards his home, and Triss trailed silently.  Running up the stairs leading to the main hallway, the duo was confronted by a striking young girl.  Her blond hair reached down to her waist, and her green eyes twinkled rather mysteriously.  Triss gaped at her.
    Gavilan laughed, seeing Triss’ expression.  “Meet my cousin, Dilia Noh.”
    Blushing furiously, Triss reached to take Dilia’s extended hand.  “Dilia,” he said in acknowledgment.
    “And this is…” The green eyes reached up to look at Gavilan.
    “Triss, a soon-to-be Captain of the Home Guard,” Gavilan Elessedil said.
    Still red, Triss muttered, “Not soon to be.  I’m not good enough.”
    Gavilan chortled.  “Please, stop the modesty.  We all know how much you like to show off.  And you are good enough.”
    Triss continued to keep his head lowered, until a slim finger propped it up gently.  “I’d like to challenge you,” Dilia said shortly.
    “Challenge me?” Triss sputtered.  He looked at the thin figure in the rose-colored gown, then moved his eyes towards her face with its perfectly formed features.  “A challenge?” he repeated.
    “Yes, a challenge!” Dilia said, smiling.  “Must you repeat everything I say?”
  Yes, Triss thought.  But he kept silent.  “When and where?”
    “In the courtyard, right now.  Using swords.”
    “In that?” Triss said, nodding at her clothing.
    “Why not?”
    Gavilan Elessedil, Dilia Noh, and Triss proceeded down several corridors when they reached the courtyard.  To Triss’ relief, it was empty.  He glanced at the rack of weapons and selected a broadsword that he used often.  Dilia did the same.  Gavilan sat at the edge, acting as judge.  Triss and Dilia took up their positions and waited for the signal.  Gavilan whistled shrilly and the fight began.
  This should be easy, thought the boy.  Bringing his broadsword up in a wide arc, Triss arched his weapon towards Dilia’s unprotected side.  Metal met metal in a loud clang, before drawing back again.  He looped over and under Dilia’s swishing broadsword, aiming for her neck, leaving his side briefly undefended.  That moment was enough.  Dilia met Triss’ sword in a quick defensive move, before arching it over to hurtle towards Triss.  Realizing the danger, Triss brought up his sword in a defensive position, but the impact was enough to nearly send him sprawling.  The prince’s cousin used that moment to her advantage, assuming an offensive stance as she knocked the sword out of Triss’ numbed hands and pinned him down onto the floor, with her sword point at his throat.
    “You win,” Triss gasped in shock.  A girl had beaten him!  But how?
    Dilia got up and dusted herself briefly.  “I know,” she said, and put the sword away.  “Are you tired?”
    “No!” Triss said automatically.  He placed his sword back in its place as well.  Triss looked at Gavilan’s cousin again, looking ever so perfect and as if she had never been in a challenge with him.  Gazing at her intently, he knew that he was in love.  A little young for that, aren’t you?  Triss thought.  He shook his head.  All the ash and vog of Morrowindl was finally getting to him.
    Looking from Triss to Dilia and back again, Gavilan shrugged and said, “How about if we continue to tour the palace?”
    Triss gazed at Dilia’s eyes and the emotions inside and tentatively took her hand.  Dilia accepted it and drew him closer.
    Gavilan smiled at Triss and Dilia and congratulated himself for making Triss so happy.  “Who knew?” he asked himself, and sauntered back inside.