Elantion

Cilna woke up early, with a fire inside her. She went to the sanctuary, and when she arrived before the door, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for another difficult day. What she witnessed left her breathless. Moments later, she was running at breakneck speed toward Kaj’s house. When she arrived, she started knocking violently and without restraint.

“Kaj! KAJ! Open the door!” She was in no state to wait; she had to take him to the sanctuary immediately.

After a short wait, Clarice opened the door. “You must be Cilna…”

The young elf was annoyed. “Yes, I am! And I have to see Kaj right away!”

“He’s sleeping. Wake him up if you must.”

Without hesitation, Cilna ran towards him.

“Open your eyes, Kaj! C’mon, wake up!”

Kaj suddenly heard his name, and his body getting shaken. He realized that he was not, in fact, dancing with fawns in the woods.

Clarice was leaning against the door, thoroughly amused.

With difficulty, the man opened his eyes, to be greeted by Cilna bent over him trying to wake him up. The words that came out his mouth were not terribly friendly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Something happened down in the village! You have to come and see!” she insisted.

“I’m guessing it’s nothing that can’t wait,” he lamented.

“You guessed it! C’mon, get dressed!” Cilna pulled off his covers.

A cold wind made him shiver. Laboriously, he got up. The water in the washbowl was freezing, but he screwed up his courage and dipped his hands in to rinse his face, so as to clear his mind.

“I’m ready,” said a shivering Kaj, tucking his shirt into his pants.

“Finally! C’mon, let’s go!” Cilna grabbed him by the hand and started pulling.

“Clarice, are you coming with us?” he asked, resisting Cilna’s tugging.

“You go on ahead. I know the way, if I’m needed,” she replied, in her usual detached manner.

As soon as the two turned the corner, the nalnir pulled something out of her pocket, and she wrote some words on a parchment. Then she departed the house, the door slamming behind her.

Cilna and Kaj reached the square, where a considerable crowd had gathered.

“What’s going on here?” asked Kaj in amazement.

“Come in! Come and see!”

As soon as they entered, they were greeted by everyone’s salutations and laughter. They sat there on their cots with relieved expressions, chatting amongst themselves. Kaj, standing at the center of the nave, saw smiling faces every which way he looked. But how was this possible?

“I hope you don’t think it’s thanks to your pigswill!” teased a soldier.

“I don’t! I didn’t do a thing!” he replied, incredulous. He made the rounds, to find no fevers or wounds in anyone. “How can this be? You’re all healed!”

An old woman replied: “Somebody was here last night. I saw her. A hooded figure, not very tall, with a white light ‘round the hands. Didn’t catch her face, though.”

“Are you sure?”

The woman looked none too pleased by this. “I may’ve been ill, but I wasn’t mad, deary!”

“I was here till the late evening,” said Cilna, “and I didn’t hear a thing.”

“Did you notice anything else of note?” Kaj asked the woman.

“What does it matter!?” interrupted the young elf. “Everyone’s hale and healthy! It’s almost like you’re unhappy about that.”

“You don’t get it! Not just anybody could have done this. It’s just like the stories I’ve been told by the elders of Lochbis.”

The old elf woman was deep in thought. She looked up and said: “I think she had long hair. And she was definitely an elf. Her hands were so slender…” she smiled contentedly.

Kaj returned her smile. “Thanks for being such a talented observer.” He turned to Cilna: “Check on everyone again. Some of them are very worn out—they still need a day or two of rest. The others can go.”

“Sure thing. Wait, where are you going?”

“I need to have a chat with someone.”

At that moment, Clarice was putting distance between herself and Fenan. She had all of her stuff on her (which wasn’t much), and as always, her mind was swimming with thoughts.

Kaj came out on the path, and spotted her pacing away, about to leave the village.

“Clarice, wait!”

But she heeded not his words. He jogged up to her and grabbed her by the arm. Her death glare shocked his fingers loose, and she quickly withdrew her arm.

“Do NOT do that again!” she warned him.

“I’m not letting you run off! I want answers.”

“Oh, you want answers?” she asked in resolute tones.

Kaj goggled at her. “Of course! Is that so strange?” he said, the words coming out harsh.

Clarice was looking away. There was a strange glint in her eyes; she seemed almost resigned. “Before you can have your answers, I must have mine,” she explained. She turned around and started walking again, but when Kaj again tried to stop her, she pointed a dagger at his throat.

“Don’t you try following me!” She didn’t need to add anything else.

Though nothing was clear to him, Kaj raised his hands in surrender, and she continued on her way, sheathing the dagger.

*

Kaj was still busy at the sanctuary, as a group of men-at-arms had come to the village in search of food and information. By the afternoon he was exhausted, so he went home, wrote in his diary, and rested his feet on the table while rocking in his chair. He reflected on his days with the nalnir, from their meeting on the banks of the river to their arrival in Fenan. His memory went to that night’s events, and it was then that he spotted it. He rose to his feet quickly, almost tripping in his haste. On the stool beside the door lay a carefully folded parchment next to a leather bag. He opened the letter:

Wear it, and don’t show it to anyone. Soon you will understand.

—Clarice

Kaj opened the bag. Inside was a necklace with a medallion. The man took a close look at it. The stone was quite beautiful, a light purple color at the edges, and darker and deeper at the center—almost smoky, in fact. It was bright, multifaceted and rough, which probably meant it was a fragment collected who knows where, and embedded in gold as it stood. There was something magnetic about it. He let it dangle off his fingers for a moment before putting it on. Kaj looked at it, and it seemed to shine lightly. He held it a little longer in hand, then hid it under his shirt.

Meanwhile, on the path that ran alongside the White Creek, the evening’s shadows were lengthening, and the clouds that had Clarice on her travels seemed to be making way for the last faint ray of sunshine. The hooded figure moved rapidly down the road, headed for the small stretch of woods at the foot of the Slumbering Peaks. She needed to reach the tunnel entrance to the Rainvale as quickly as possible. She had been journeying alone for many years, far and wide throughout Draelia and sometimes even beyond. This had honed her senses, and she had learned to survive in even the most extreme circumstances. That was why she was still alive. Her thoughts strayed to Kaj for a moment. She absolutely had to look after his well-being, at least until she had dispelled all of her doubts.

Her train of thoughts was distracting her. She stopped, taking in the noises that surrounded her. She took a deep breath; there was something in the air. The trees were close now. She had to hurry and seek shelter for the night.

Clarice found an area at the foot of a steep hill. The place was sheltered by large trees and dense shrubbery, and the ground around was slippery, making it impossible to risk advancing further. She made a hole for the fire, thereby concealing the light of the flames. She curled up next to it, wrapped in her cloak, and slept for a few hours.

She was startled awake by a host of strange noises. Perfectly still, she listened. Some soil fell upon her, and she understood from the croaking that it was a pack of anurians, a species of froglike amphibians that wandered from one land to another in nomadic groupings, collecting what they found on both continents. They were rarely seen in that area; since the Invasion, they had been pushed to as far as Elelreel due to the devastation in Draelia. They were a gawky lot, with slimy and spotted skin, short legs and long arms. They could be on the fat side, and their colors could be vivid—the distinguishing characteristics of wiser, older anurians. These creatures were venomous and quite swift, which made them difficult to deal with groups of them.

While Clarice was deciding what to do, a small flame went out from among the embers, and a thin plume of smoke rose up. The elf’s eyes followed it, cursing its existence.

The anurian at the head of the pack caught a whiff of the scent, and spotted the smoke. Then it ordered the pack to halt. Before they could stick their heads out over the hill, Clarice dashed like lightning behind a large tree trunk.

The anurian leapt down to Clarice’s altitude, but with its poor sense of smell, it could not distinguish between Clarice’s odor and the overpowering smoke. It rummaged through the embers with its spear, and then, with a guttural cry, jumped onto the path, the caravan setting off once again.

The elf waited for them to go away, and watched to make sure none were straggling behind.

By Efabi! Danger averted, she thought.

Dawn was breaking, so she decided to resume pace. The last stretch in the woods was propitious. She found some bushes that still bore berries for the plundering. She popped some in her mouth intermittently as she continued forward. Her strides were light and fleet of foot, and she always tried to leave as few traces as possible by avoiding mud and overly soft ground. The sun had risen by the time she left the woods and spotted the hills that would lead her to Herle.

She arrived outside the village on the afternoon of the fourth day. She crossed the Murkwaters and followed them to the passage toward the Rainvale. She hadn’t the time to walk the entire path and reach the hidden entrance—she could already hear the group that was waiting for her arguing heatedly. She stopped and shook her head, mustering all of her patience before proceeding onwards. She wouldn’t stop by for long—just for long enough to exchange information. Then she would walk right back to Fenan.

Ten days passed. The sun had almost dipped behind the mountains. Kaj was returning home, convinced he would never see the nalnir again. He looked up, and in the distance he saw a limping figure. Curiosity spurred him to get a better look, and he realized it was Clarice. Kaj dashed to help her, and she fell into his arms.

“What happened to you, Clarice?” he asked worriedly.

“Now’s not the time. Take me to your house.”

Clarice let herself be guided by Kaj, who helped her lie upon the bed. The elf took off her cloak and began to unfasten the leather protector on her injured left thigh, taking off that leg of her trousers as well.

In the meantime, Kaj was preparing her some water and clean cloth, which he brought over. Her thigh was deeply lacerated.

“It was lalks, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. I’ve never seen a pack of lalks that organized,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. She was very pale-faced, and worn out, as she had lost a lot of blood.

“Now stay still; I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”

She nodded slightly, laying her head on the pillow. Kaj dipped a piece of cloth in the washbowl and set about washing away the blood, cleaning the wounds thoroughly. With each touch, he felt the elf’s muscles contract in pain.

“I’m almost finished,” he informed her. “I just have to go get some herbs from the hospital.”

“There’s no need. Just put some bandages on it. It’ll heal.”

“I’m the wound expert here.”

“Listen to me, Kaj,” she replied harshly.

“Okay, if you say it’ll heal… you should’ve put some galium leaves on it as soon as possible, you can find them all over the place here.”

“I was busy running away. I was being unwary, and now look at me…” she said, her words tinged with disappointment.

“But you’re alive!” he cried.

“So it’d seem…” she replied, without much enthusiasm.

Kaj finished wrapping her wound, and whipped up an infusion with a mixture of invigorating herbs. When he returned to the room, he saw she’d fallen asleep.

Good, he thought. She’ll at least regain her strength.

It was now evening. Kaj looked out the window, but the stars were not there. The white clouds shone, covering the whole sky from horizon to horizon. A gust of freezing air enveloped Kaj, who watched the first snowflakes of the season. He went outside, spread out his arms, and turned to face the sky. The snow’s caress felt nice, but a snowflake made it way past his cloak onto his neck, causing him to shiver. He quickly returned inside, and saw that Clarice was awake, leaning against the headboard.

“What’s so fascinating out there? You rushed out the door…” she asked, curious.

The man opened the shutters of the bedroom window. As soon as she saw the snow, Clarice swore in Elvish (which Kaj did not understand). She started rising out of bed, pushing herself onto her feet using her arms, and staggering a little. Kaj stepped in to support her.

“I’m fine!” she insisted firmly.

“Okay. I just wanted to help.”

The nalnir limped to the window. “I hoped it’d take at least a few more days. I didn’t need this,” she admitted, destroying Kaj’s glee completely.

She drank a sip of water and laid herself in bed again, dozing off forthwith. Kaj looked at her for a moment. Most in Clarice’s place would have already developed a high fever, accompanied by delirious dreams. It seemed very strange to him. He found himself handling the medallion she’d given him; it seemed to help him reflect. With his mind full of thoughts, he stretched out on a carpet, and before he realized it, he’d fallen asleep.

Outside the village, the nocturnal quiet was punctuated by the howls of lalks. That night, however, they could be heard barking in pain. A short figure packing metal was striding toward Fenan. His loud and heavy footsteps were accompanied by labored breathing. When the sun began to rise, he finally saw the outline of the houses in the distance. He stopped to catch his breath, and took the opportunity to drink some mead.

Kaj’s awakening was a rude one. He heard shouting in the streets. The speakers were very riled up, so he got up hastily and opened the door. Despite his cloak, he was struck by the cold air. A little further on, a dozen or so villagers were gathered to rail against something. He decided to try and figure out what was going on. Making his way through the crowd, he saw a dwarf brandishing an axe at the crowd with a menacing look. Insult them as they might, none had the courage to attack him.

“Please, stop this!” said Kaj.

“Oh!” exclaimed the dwarf. “Someone with a little common sense!”

“He threatens us with an axe and you defend him?” shouted a nalnir.

“Looks to me you’re threatening him with your dagger!” he shot back.

The elf in question sheathed the weapon and took a few steps back. The dwarf stared at him, and with a satisfied smirk, he swiftly put the axe on his shoulders, hand dangling over its handle. With a proud air, he approached Kaj.

“A friend of mine told me to come here,” he explained. “Oloice Calrek, at your service.” He held out his hand, and Kaj shook it firmly.

“Kaj.”

“Excellent! You’re the one I was looking for!”

Kaj nodded, smiling.

“Clarice is at my place.” He motioned for him to proceed. Before Kaj could even open the door for him, the dwarf was already by Clarice’s side.

“Oloice! That was quick!” said Clarice in amazement (and a touch of humor).

“Ha! You left me with a nice big drove of the beasties! I had to crack a surplus of the damn things’ heads! I see you’ve recovered. I’m glad.”

The elf nodded and turned to Kaj: “I have Oloice to thank for being here. Fortunately, he decided to accompany me…”

“Then you ought to keep an eye on her often, Master Oloice,” said Kaj, winking.

“Easier said than done!” he exclaimed.

The dwarf’s voice was very coarse and deep, reflecting his squat and heavyset figure. His leather armor was battered by time and battles. The metal plaques on his shoulders, arms, knees, and shins were beat up, and the woolen clothes that were visible were dirty and old. He wore a cloak with frayed hems, proof of some bad brushes with branches in the forest. He didn’t hesitate to let the cloak fall to the floor the second he entered the house.

“I have a feeling you won’t turn your nose up at some good elven booze,” said Kaj, knowing how he’d answer.

“By Tetir’s beard! A dwarf never turns down a drink!”

Oloice and Clarice took advantage of Kaj’s momentary absence to whisper something, stopping the moment Kaj returned. As the pair drank, the man regarded Oloice’s face. His ruddy beard caught Kaj’s eyes, as it was clearly tinged with turnip juice, bushy and scruffy, with a very well-fashioned braid at the center. He had many wrinkles and a few scars. His eyebrows were as thick and messy as his hair, and the same shade of light brown.

After a brief sniff, he downed his glass in one go. “Of course, a nice mug would’ve been better!” said the dwarf, slightly grouchy.

“Take it easy, Oloice; this stuff can put even a dwarf to bed!” said Clarice, amused.

“Alcohol’s the one thing that can best a dwarf! I’m sure you know that by now!” he replied proudly.

“Kaj, take a seat. Oloice and I have a lot to tell you.”

He did so, taking a stool and sitting at the foot of the bed. “Consider me all ears.”

“I’ll start telling you what Oloice told me yesterday,” began Clarice. “To make a long story short—after two years, the forced coexistence of the Clans in Tetirstad is becoming unsustainable, because of the other dwarven cities under the mountains still invaded by ‘narguts,’ as they’re called by dwarves. The internal struggles and reprisals have already begun. Moreover, it’s impossible to reach Vetmark; the mountain passes are blocked by snow, so we can’t contact the dwarves of the Summits until spring. They can’t help us. If we want to form an army, it remains of the essence to come to an agreement with Tetirstad.”

“Makes sense,” said Kaj. “Care to explain what a nargut is?”

“Narguts are creatures that pop up in many a dwarven legend,” said Oloice, happy to explain. “They’re said to have been feeble little things, originally. They had soft white skin that could burn up in the sunlight, and pupil-less yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. They inhabited the darkest depths of the dwarves’ lost word, the mythical Tesgaran, and were taken on the great divine chariot that transported the dwarves to Elantion after Tesgaran’s destruction. As was their nature, they crept ever deeper, and the elven magic of Elantion transformed them. Their skin became stone-like, and tough as leather, while their bodies turned crooked and their backs hunched. Once peaceful and timid, they became aggressive and devious.”

“Oloice’s brother is conducting excavations in the Rainvale to bring to light the entrance to one of the abandoned cities, which was buried under a large landslide. I met Oloice and some other dwarves at the entrance of an old tunnel used by miners that leads into the vale, so as to obtain information on the excavations and whatever else is happening in Tetirstad. Not only did I run into some anurians on the way there, I got attacked by lalks on the way back… and you know the rest.”

“I see,” said Kaj, nodding.

“I left in a hurry,” Clarice continued, “because I had to let Oloice know about encountering you, as I hope it’ll help us solve some of our problems.”

“Wait a sec, what do I have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know yet; I’m searching for the answer to that myself. What do you know about your family? Your parents?” asked Clarice.

“I was raised by the blacksmith of Lochbis. He adopted me when I was little more than a baby—”

“That explains a lot,” Clarice interrupted.

“It does?”

“It does,” said Clarice.

“Wait, does the medallion you left me have anything to do with it?” he asked, showing it to the two.

“By the gods!” she exclaimed in amazement, upon seeing the medallion’s faint glow.

“What?” said Kaj.

Oloice jumped onto his chair. “Then you really did find it!” he marveled at Clarice.

“Yes…” she said, incredulous.

“Anyone want to fill me in?” asked Kaj, annoyed.

“That medallion tells us I’m right. That the intel was correct,” replied the nalnir excitedly, pointing. “Your true family lineage has its origins elsewhere, but I don’t know much more…”

Kaj looked at the shining medallion at his neck, and then eyed her incredulously. “What are you talking about? You mean to say you might know my real family?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know!” she replied. “You need to keep it hidden until we’re someplace else. You’ll have to come with me to Nidath. Period.”

“Why should I? I could just take it off and toss it away!” said Kaj, confused.

“Because if you really want to know about your family, you have to trust me!” said Clarice.

Oloice got his words in: “Kaj, we’re both here for you at this point. I understand why you’d be confused—”

“And angry…!” said Kaj.

“And angry,” said the dwarf.

Kaj turned to Clarice: “What about your leg? How can it already be almost healed? Not to mention the people at the sanctuary. I’m sure it was you.”

“I have healing abilities, but I can’t use them on myself, as they have no effect on me. I treated them because I wanted to… happy?”

Kaj nodded. He needed some fresh air, so he headed for the door. “Give me some time. I need to think.”

IV

Two days later, Clarice had fully recovered. She and Oloice had settled into the sanctuary, which was completely empty. The skies were grey and covered in heavy clouds, and it snowed for most of the day. Kaj decided to peek out the window, but he never caught sight of either of the two, and the snow and chill that had conquered the outside were not exactly a welcome vista. Then, suddenly, he saw a cloaked figure advancing rapidly in the storm. It was Clarice.

The elf knocked on the door, which Kaj promptly opened.

“You’ll let me in, right?” she asked, trembling.

“Of course! Warm yourself by the fire,” he said, surprised.

“Good grief, it’s a tempest out there!” she said, rubbing her hands.

“And not knowing where else to go, you ventured here,” he said dryly.

“Just as it appears.” The elf looked at him and smiled, then concentrated again on warming her hands by the fire, taking off her cloak and placing it on the chair, before putting her gloves on the table.

“Did you come to tell me about the big bad storm outside?” asked Kaj, still a bit bitter.

“I came here to give you this.” She pulled out a crumpled letter. “It’s been in my pocket for too long, so it’s a bit worse for wear. When I found the medallion, I went back to Nidath to look into matters…”

Kaj took the parchment, and when he opened it, he realized it was a letter from the elven king, Yenven Hushblade. Skimming, he reached the point where Yenven wished Clarice success in her search for the medallion’s rightful owner (even if he didn’t approve of her sheer fixation). Kaj looked up at her, and the nalnir stared at him, waiting for some sign. Kaj handed her back the letter, after which a disappointed expression dawned on her face.

“That’s it? That’s your reaction? How about a little curiosity? I don’t know why you’re so hostile, but I won’t let you destroy the dreams of everyone who wants to go home, and who’s fighting to realize that dream,” said Clarice. For a moment, she seemed not to know what to do, but then she put on her gloves and cloak back on, and pulled up her hood. “Your journey to the Whitetrunk made an impression on me, but apparently I’d deluded myself…”

“What does that mean?”

“You demonstrated excellent battle skills, but you seem to lack everything else.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Clarice,” he protested. “You have no right to judge me.”

The elf’s expression turned resigned. “The medallion you wear around your neck is why I’m here. It’s the answer to everything,” she explained. “You have a day to decide, after which I’ll be leaving.”

With that, she opened the door and set forth back into the snowstorm. Rage burned inside her—she had risked her life and had had to give assurances to a man she didn’t even know at the time to continue her research, and now she had to fight again, mustering all her strength not to abandon the village and return to her travels. She was almost starting to curse the day she’d found that mysterious medallion.