Dawn broke upon the tiny seaside village - gulls made their mournful call, wheeling about in a sky barely lighted pale pinks and purples. A calm ocean, tinted the same color as the sky, lapped softly on the beach.

The Keys Inn, a small, homey place, right in the middle of the village, was a refuge for all types, from bards to knights, humans to trolls. The innkeeper, a wizened old man, provided all the right accommodations: stables, comfortable rooms, and the best ale and food to be found in the South. He asked no questions as to one's past, and asked nothing in return, other than the proper amount of money.

Up inside the inn, on the hithermost story, one of the Inn’s occupants began to stir. A young woman, a kitsune, wrapped in the soft, white sheets on the bed, yawned, stretching out her arms, and looked out the window. She smiled slightly, and rolled over to face the other side of the bed. “Lethsuor, dahling…” Her eyes opened wide at the sight of the empty side of the bed. Lying on the pillow was a folded piece of parchment. The initials “L-S” was written on it, in a beautiful, looping hand. She opened it with shaking hands.

Bela,

Do not be sad about what has happened, or what will happen. Know that I love you still, yet the sea I love also. When you read this, I will perhaps already be gone. We may meet again.

Again, I love you still.

Lethsuor Silviayr

The kitsune’s hands shook, this time with rage, tears running down her cheeks. How dare he! she screamed at herself. Bela jumped out of bed and searched around the room. She snatched her longbow and quiver off the floor, and grabbed a light tan belt, with a large hunting knife stuck in one of the pouches. All she wore was a stiff, black corset, and a ragged kilt, but she grabbed a heavy black cloak off a nearby chair before vaulting out the door.

Bela ran all the way to the docks, the sand flying from under her feet. Several ships were still moored, though one had already unfurled her sails. A short line of men were preparing to board. She searched out one particular person; she saw him, tall, pale, his golden hair shining in the rising sun. He turned around, and his eyes filled with tears at the sight of her.

“Lethsuor!” she called, and tripped on a loose board. She fell, and wrenched her left ankle. Lethsuor rushed over to her, and bent to inspect it. She pushed him away. “Why are you leaving me?”

He opened his mouth to answer, and a burly man stepped between them. “C’mon, mate, she’ll be pullin’ out soon!” Bela screamed, and another man grabbed her by her bowstring as she rose. The first man dragged Lethsuor back to the ship, struggling. He broke free, and ran to Bela, pulling her away from the man holding her. He kissed her, once, and whispered in her ear. “I’ll be back some day.” He pressed something into her hand: a ring on a small silver chain. It glinted in the light. They kissed again, and Lethsuor turned and ran back to the ship.

Bela stood still, watching the ship pull away. She slipped the chain into her quiver, and muttered an oath to herself.

“I curse you, and all your kindred. You’ll pay for this; I hope you drown. Bad fortune on your journey!” She limped back up the wharf. Updated Dec 11-03