Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

"Actually," Alwyn said, "our regiment is called the Iron Elves, but I'm not an elf," he hastened to add.

The elf hissed. She drew forth a gleaming, wooden dagger and made a sign of warding. "Then you serve the Shadow Monarch. We were wrong to succor you."

Alwyn felt the life force in the blade, and for a moment thought he heard another voice. "What? No. We've got nothing to do with the Shadow Monarch! We're trying to stop Her from getting the Star. We're not evil, honest," he said, holding up his hands.

"You know of the Star?" she asked, the dagger still held in her hand.

"I haven't seen it, if that's what you're asking, but we've all heard about it. I think that's the real reason we're going to Luuguth Jor."

The dagger vanished, and with it the strange feeling that there had been more than just the two of them there. The elf sat down beside him, one hand still on his shoulder. Alwyn lowered his hands and let out his breath.

"What is your name?"

"Private Alwyn Renwar."

The elf shook her head. "What does your name mean?"

"Mean? It's just my name, it doesn't mean anything," he said, his voice rising a little. "What's yours?"

"Irkila Moon Singer," she said, still staring at him with those deep, brown eyes, " ryk faurrГ© of Tall Wind. Why do you live as you do, Private Alwyn Renwar? Why do you destroy that which lives so that you instead may live a life with no meaning?"

That wasn't fair. "Hey, I said my name has no meaning, not my life. And besides, my name does have a meaning, it was my grandfather's."

Irkila sat up straight. "You rob your ancestor of his name? How will he be known in the spirit world?"

"I asked you to watch over him, Irkila, not argue with him," a voice said from above. An elf landed lightly beside Irkila without a sound. She was older, her black hair streaked with gray, her skin lined with fine wrinkles that only added to her look of wisdom and beauty. Like Irkila, she was dressed in a fashion that caused her to blend with the tree so that it was difficult to tell where the tree ended and she began.

"I want to understand, Chayii Red Owl, but he makes no sense. He and his companions wear the cloth of the tainted ones, yet are hunted by creatures of Her making. They search for the Eastern Star, yet do not appear to believe in it. They follow orders they do not understand."

Chayii smiled. "Their ways are not ours. Go aid the children of this home. Many were wounded during the battle, their trunks scarred by metal, their leaves burned by the black frost. I would talk with Alwyn of the Empire."

Irkila nodded and took her hand from his shoulder. The sounds of the forest quieted again, and he shook his head. He watched her walk back toward the trunk of the tree and then simply vanish. It was impressive magic.

"Not magic," Chayii said, "but understanding. Many things are yet shrouded in this, and I seek your light. Will you guide me?"

He started, then nodded, wishing he could go back to a time when the only elf he'd known had cobbled shoes for a living and had shown no interest in reading his mind.

"Then tell me, Iron Elf, who is the one you call Meri?"

A lwyn's heart thudded in his chest and for the second time in as many minutes he thought he might tumble from the branch.

"You saw him?"

Chayii closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. When she opened them again her brown eyes stared at him with bright intensity. "I sensed him, as I sense all disturbances in the natural order. He lingers in this world, bound here by something that should not be."

Meri, the elf sensed Meri. That meant he wasn't crazy. "He died a few days ago. We buried him out on the plain of vines, but I've seen him a few times since. I think, well, I think he might be protecting me."

She pursed her lips. "Necromancy poisons the natural order. This is Her doing."

Alwyn didn't like the sound of this one bit. "Look, Miss Red Owl, I don't know what's going on, but I know Meri was a good man in life, and he seems to be that way in death, too. I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense, but then I'm sitting in a tree with elves talking about magic, ghosts, and the natural order, which, to be honest, I never even knew there was one. I wish I could explain it, but I really don't know how."

Chayii smiled at him, and it didn't make him afraid. Before she could respond, a bird cry rang through the trees. It was immediately answered by others. Chayii listened intently, cocking her head to one side and closing her eyes. After a few moments, she opened them again and lifted her face to the moon, trilling a series of notes that Alwyn would have sworn were made by a bird were he not watching her do it. More bird call answered her and then the forest was silent. She turned back to him and the smile was gone.

"It is time for answers," she said, holding a hand above her head. She began to chant and a thick vine uncoiled itself from a branch above and lay in her open hand. Her chanting changed and the end of the vine slithered across her hand and toward Alwyn. He leaned back, but it was already across his legs and moving around his body like a constrictor. In seconds he was securely bound, though not so tightly that it hurt.

Chayii moved beside him and grabbed the leaf on which the arrow rested, careful not to touch the arrow itself. She took hold of the vine with her other hand and her chanting changed again. The branch they were on suddenly bent down, and they were sliding off it into oblivion.

Before he could scream, a lower branch reached up and they landed softly among its leaves, the vine acting as a safety line. The process was continued several more times as they slowly progressed toward the forest floor. When they were still twenty feet off the ground and no branches were left, the vine took their weight and lowered them the rest of the way. No sooner had his feet touched the ground than the vine uncoiled itself and withdrew back into the branches above. Chayii took hold of his arm on his right side and steadied him. The murmur of voices he had sensed before started up again.

"That was…that was amazing," he said, looking back up.

Chayii looked up at the tree and sang a short song. The tree swayed in response and then went still. Alwyn could have sworn he heard, or felt, the tree say something.

"No, Alwyn of the Empire, that was life. Come."

She led him a short distance through the forest to a small clearing where his comrades were buried. The moon shone brighter here and he could see clearly all around him. Muskets, Yimt's shatterbow, the rest of their kits, and several black arrows lay piled on a large flat rock beside three mounds of frost-burnt leaves. There were no markers, no sign that the soldiers lying there now had lived at all.

Irkila suddenly appeared and took the leaf-wrapped arrow from Chayii, placing it on the rock with the other arrows. Other elves emerged from the forest. Several were supporting or leading members of Three Section. Alwyn staggered and Chayii motioned for another elf to come and help her.

"Never mind, ma'am, I'll take care of that sack of bones," Yimt said, detaching himself from the elf who supported him to limp over and offer his shoulder to Alwyn. Leaf-and-moss bandages secured with thin vines covered the left side of his head and his right forearm. Judging by the way he limped, Alwyn figured his right thigh must be bandaged, too. More shocking than seeing the dwarf wounded, however, was seeing him alive. He squeezed Yimt's shoulder and fought back tears.

"I saw Kritton with your drukar."

Yimt's upper lip curled. "I lost sight of that bastard after two of those creatures attacked me. If we're lucky, one of them caught up and made a nice meal out of him."

Before he could ask for an explanation, the survivors of Three Section were all brought together. Teeter now limped on both legs. Scolly's left arm was in a sling ingeniously made of a broad leaf, while Inkermon looked completely untouched. Seeing the farmer unwounded angered Alwyn, and Inkermon seemed to sense it, for he refused to look him in the eye. He looked back to the mounds where Alik, Buuko, and little N'bhat lay buried, and something cold gripped his heart.