Child of the Blade

The day dawned still and silent and a palpable tension hung in the air. Summerstream was up the moment the top of the daystar broke above the curved horizon of the vastdeep, down at his namesake, bathing in the cool water and taking a leisurely swim.

He dove deep and touched bottom, sending up a swirling, murky cloud of silt. He breached, sending a spray of water in every direction, and shook his brown hair out of his eyes. Treading water in the deepest part of the pool, he listened to the still-silent forest. Something seemed strangely… amiss.

A loud splash sounded behind him, and he whirled around. All he found was the ever spreading ripples on the surface of the water, marking the passing of a large stone that now floated lazily to the bottom of the river. He watched them curiously as they collided with the ripples his moving body made, forming small waves, then looked expectantly at the brush that flanked the bank. After a few moments, he called out.

"Is someone there?" he asked the air. "Twittersong, is that you?"

No one answered, and no other sounds were heard. Summerstream felt… odd. Apprehensive. But he attempted to shrug it off as he swam back to his clothes and got out of the water.

** **

Several nights later, Teean was wandering among the trees, contemplating, not for the first time, how lucky she was to have found the Finders in her time of need, when her soul sister’s life was in peril and her entire tribe had been newly wiped out by the Dark Lady. Then, when Skygem and Windweaver had shown up, it had seemed, for a few moments, that none of the Skysingers were dead at all.

"Bright stars, Teean," a voice said. The silver-haired maiden looked up to find Smokeweaver, kneeling, with a hand resting against the root of a tree.

"Smokeweaver, you startled me," the Skysinger replied with a relieved smile.

"Are you alright?" the Plainsrunner asked, plucking some wild lettuce from the ground near where she was sitting.

Teean nodded. "I was just thinking about my good fortune of late." They fell silent, and Teean became aware that the night housed no bird calls or animal sounds. "Have you noticed how the forest seems to have been holding its breath, lately?" she asked quietly, staring, unfocused, into the trees.

"I have," the cook replied, picking a handful of sweet mushrooms off the bark of the tree. "It’s probably nothing, though. I remember how, back at Greenriver, the whole valley would be silent for a moon or more. When the insects and birds began to sing again, and the foxes would yip in the night, it always seemed so loud at first, and it would take me an eight-of-days to sleep peacefully again."

"You are right, of course," Teean said, forcing a smile. But she didn’t believe for a moment that is was nothing. She feared the Dark One with the burning green eyes had found her and her new family.

** **

"Oh! He kicked!"

"Let me feel!"

Jrean pressed his hand to his pregnant lifemate’s belly. A few moments later, he felt a tiny bump against his eager fingers, and his face lit up in an ecstatic grin. Imberglow smiled at his behavior and expression and nuzzled his dark hair. It was hard for her to think that a thing like Recognition had pulled her into Jrean’s arms, when she had so disliked him upon first meeting him. But it had, and here she was; carrying his son and happy to have him for a lifemate.

"Oh! I just remembered something I wanted to show you!" Jrean exclaimed. He quickly pulled a blindfold over the fireshaper’s eyes and led her to a small clearing.

"Can I look yet?" she asked, swinging her head back and forth as if trying to hear everything she possibly could.

"Yes!"

Imberglow removed the blindfold and found a bush overburdened with ripe dreamberries awaiting her eyes.

"Oh, Jrean! How’d you find this?" she asked, plucking a juicy berry and popping it into her mouth.

"I just stumbled on it yesterday," he grinned sheepishly. "There was a hornet’s nest in it, and I think that’s why we haven’t stripped it bare, yet. But I moved the nest, so it’s safe now. Look in the center of the bush for the real surprise!"

Tittering, she parted the branches and found something greyish green, and indiscernible in the dappled light of the bush. Several of them, in fact, crudely strung on course twine.

"What is it?" she asked, holding it up.

"It’s… not what I left you," he replied, confused, then began searching the branches of the bush, himself.

Imberglow continued to examine the strange and ugly necklace in better light. The oblong shapes had something hard, flat and yellowing pressed into the end on one side. She held one of the objects close to her face and rolled it between her fingertips. Suddenly, she realized what it was, and dropped it with a startled shriek.

"Imber, what’s wrong?" Jrean asked, spinning around.

"They’re fingers!" she exclaimed, turning away and covering in mouth, partly in horror and partly to keep herself from vomiting all over the grass. "They’re not elfin, but still, that’s disgusting!"

Jrean gingerly picked up the necklace by the string and put it in his pouch.

"What are you doing?" Imberglow asked with distaste. "I certainly hope our lunch isn’t in there."

"I’m taking it to Duskwhisper," he replied, ignoring the second comment. "Whoever it belongs to might be trying to tell us something."

"Oh, don’t tell me you believe in spirit fables," the fireshaper mocked lightly.

"I didn’t say that, but we may be in danger."

** **

Duskwhisper examined the grotesque piece of adornment, studying each finger and comparing their sizes against her own. They were the sickly green of preserved flesh that had been drained of all blood before hand, and had been left to exposure. Her skin crawled, despite her healer’s sense brushing against them in a melancholy sort of way.

"I think they’re human fingers," she finally said. She had never actually seen a human herself, but the chief of the Plainsrunners, Eagle-Eye, had told her tales of them from his travels as a youth. She set the necklace aside, unconsciously scrubbing her hand off on her leggings directly afterward.

"Who could have left it?" Wisedove asked.

"I don’t know, but the owner may be wanting to make himself known."

"About an eight-of-days ago, someone threw a rock in the pool while I was swimming alone," Summerstream said as if recalling a particularly distant memory.

"And the whole forest has been rather silent of late," Teean supplied. "What if it’s… Her?" Wisedove held her soul sister close, comforting her.

"What if it is?" Longrunner replied. "We can’t hide like squirrels. We’d starve! If it is the Dark Lady, she already knows where we are."

"That is a pretty phrase that trips from your tongue so easily, Longrunner," Skygem replied. "You have never seen her undeserved wrath."

"Look, I’ll go hunt," Duskwhisper said, "and at the same time, I’ll try to confront our visitor."

"Is that wise, Chieftess?" Snowstreak asked. "What if whoever it is attacks you?"

Duskwhisper sighed and lowered her eyes. "So many ‘what ifs’ being thrown about. It is a risk I must take," she replied. "After all, if the stranger is friendly, they may just be waiting for a chance to speak to me alone."

** **

Teean had been right. Ravenwood was spookily silent, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She shook the bizarre feeling off to better concentrate, and her efforts were soon rewarded. A young, solo buck stood nervously, drinking from the river. His ears swiveled back and forth, almost constantly, and he continually lifted his head and tested the air.

‘He senses something,’ Duskwhisper thought as she watched him. ‘He knows someone’s out here, and he knows what’s frightening the forest into silence.’

She could still feel the eyes on her, but she pushed the eerie feeling to the back of her mind again. All that mattered now was the hunt. Landing this deer would feed her small tribe for a number of days.

Slowly, she drew her bowstring back and aimed, unconsciously holding her breath, and readied to release the arrow.

‘It’s like my first hunt all over again,’ she thought. ‘Everyone is counting on me, and I’m so nervous.’

"You know, you’re doing that all wrong," a voice behind her said.

"Gyah!!"

Her concentration broken, Duskwhisper released the arrow off into the forest. This, combined with her cry, startled the buck, which began to run off in frightened leaps. Duskwhisper cursed herself for being startled and began desperately knocking another arrow.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed past her ear, it’s fletches grazing her cheek, and landed solidly in the back of the fleeing deer’s head, killing it instantly.

The chieftess whirled around to discover who had startled her and yet, save her from losing the deer, but no one was there. Instead, she faced the blank wall of shrubbery that she had passed through to reach this point in the forest. She looked around, all her nerves on end, and called into the seemingly empty air, "Who’s there? Show yourself! There’s no fooling me, I know someone’s out there!"

Out of nowhere, a lone figure appeared. Duskwhisper doubted her senses, because no one and nothing had been there a moment before, and there had not even been the rustle of a leaf before the stranger appeared. He was a hansom elf, shorter than Duskwhisper, and fair of skin. A long, silvery braid ran down his back, and his long bangs nearly concealed a pair of jewel-blue eyes, which silently scrutinized her through slitted lids. A slight, cocky grin revealed a pair of fang-like bicuspids. Fangs, which set Duskwhisper’s nerves on edge even worse than they already were.

He was dressed in a black, long-sleeved, wrap-around tunic, which was tied off at the waist with a red belt, and a pair of loose-fitting leggings. Around his neck hung a pendant of light purple stone with a circle of gold set into the center. At his side was the scabbard for a long, thing sword of a make and design Duskwhisper had never before seen. He was rather stately looking in his own way, and the casual yet firm way he held his bow spoke of mastery of that weapon, and probably others.

"See?" he said, his voice a cool, rich baritone. "I told you, you were doing it all wrong."

Duskwhisper disliked him already.

"Who are you?" she demanded harshly. "Why have you been skulking around my holt, and setting the entire forest into a nervous silence?"

He made a sweeping bow, a mocking grin set on his face. "My lady, I am Rayen, haling from the Spirit Blade Peaks, and I assure you that I wave not been intending to frighten you or your tribe."

"Oh, no? Well, isn’t this yours?" She fished his necklace out of her pouch and threw it at him, rather than to him. He caught it with a fluid sort of ease and inspected it.

"Yes, well," he replied, making as if to put the necklace back on.

"Oh, no you don’t!" Duskwhisper snapped. "That thing is tasteless and repulsive, and you will not wear it in Ravenwood!"

Rayen eyed her a moment, then shrugged and put the necklace out of sight.

"I think we have a deer to divide."

"We have no such thing," the chieftess growled. "You intentionally distracted me. I would have made the shot had it not been for you!"

"Temper, temper," Rayen winked.

Duskwhisper stopped suddenly and recalled Imberglow’s initial reaction to Jrean. She composed herself and breathed deeply a few times.

‘Look at you, Rahl,’ she mentally scolded herself. ‘You’re the chieftess of a tribe and yet you’re acting like a kit of an eight an two!’

"Forgive my outburst," she said out loud. "I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I guess I just snapped. Of course, if you want your share of the deer…" she trailed off.

"That isn’t exactly what I had in mind," he amended. "I wanted to help you take it back to your tribe. Maybe stay with you a while, if that’s alright."

Duskwhisper struggled with the idea. Her personal opinion of the elf made her brain scream, "No!" but her compassion as a healer and chieftess gently prodded, "Yes." She still didn’t like Rayen much, but he proved to be an excellent hunter and he had the air of a fighter. Her mind drifted momentarily to the Black Mountains, and she figured they could use another on their side.

"I… guess that’s alright," she replied, making her way over to the fallen buck.

"So, tell me something," the silver-haired elf said conversationally. "What’s your name?"

Duskwhisper blushed furiously.

** **

"Everyone, I’d like you to meet who’s been spooking us so badly. This is Rayen."

Longrunner noted a hint of dislike in Duskwhisper’s voice as she said his name, and wondered if the newcomer just rubbed his friend the wrong way.

"Child of the blade," Wisedove nodded, translating his name as she took note of his strange sword. "Welcome to the Finders.