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The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 16

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She worked through the first room of twenty in just a couple of hours, working on dryads and faerie folk, along with a few elves. It was just a trickle of energy per patient, but she eventually felt fatigue begin to steal over her. She knew, though, it was good for her to be exercising her yellow energy. It meant that in the future she could have a larger store of the energy. She pushed herself since she wasn’t exhausted yet, and offered to work on the next room of physically impaired patients, still avoiding the mentally impaired ones.

The sun moved across the sky and in the late afternoon, when light slanted across the room in dappled beams, it became harder and harder to work with her magic. She couldn’t draw much out anymore, as if she’d reached the bottom of a barrel of water and all she was getting were the leftover droplets. The fatigue worsened and she occasionally felt like leaning against the wall and sleeping.

After trying for another few minutes on the young faerie she was working on, she sighed and stood up. She didn’t like having to tell Rowena she’d have to stop, but she did have the certainty that she’d done all she could. Thinking of her upcoming journey into the Hollow to find the cure to the Soulblight, she found the energy to stand up and exit the eerily quiet room in search of Rowena.

Outside, a frigid wind wove its way through the tree branches, and she was glad she wore a cloak. She wrapped it tightly around her shoulders and walked to the next tree in the circle of infirmary rooms. Rowena wasn’t in this one. A deeper sense of hopelessness and disquiet overwhelmed her as she stepped in. In here, separated by the same sheets and ten sections as the previous rooms, were dryads, faeries, elves, gnomes and even a couple centaurs lying down on their bellies, without beds. They were healthy-looking, to an extent; all their faces were utterly blank. A few looked asleep, but most of them stared straight ahead in silence, not even looking at her when she came in. An uneasy feeling crept into her thoughts as she looked at their faces. Did they really have any hope of curing these people? She had less than a week if she wanted to come back before the attack. And even if she could cure them, how long would it take for them to recover? Was leaving here be the best thing to be doing?

“Rain! Get out of there,” Rowena called from outside, a hint of fear in her voice. Rain sighed in despair and turned around to exit the open door. Rowena stepped closer and shut it behind her. “You should stay out of that room. They’re in the same stage as Shea. They are the ones that will soon have to go back to their homes. We cannot do anything more for them.”

Rain nodded. She looked at the closed door, fear creeping into her. “I came to tell you I’m done. I don’t think I can do any more today.”

Rowena gave her a hard look. “Dear, I think you’ve worked too hard!” She gently rubbed the skin beneath Rain’s eyes. “You look desperately tired. Why don’t you head back to your room and get some sleep? I’ve already begun researching and planning your trip. I will wake you early tomorrow and if you feel ready, you can go.”

“Oh, you haven’t told anyone—”

“No, don’t you worry, it’s our secret. I can think of a few people who might agree that you should go, but it would be safest if we don’t tell them. The fewer people who know, the better.” Rowena smiled. “I should get back to work. And you should get some sleep.”

Just as the woman began walking away, a thought came to her. “Rowena, why haven’t I seen Whiskey or other helpers around? And what about your bakery?” Her voice was groggy, and she stifled a yawn.

Rowena turned back to her. “Since I saw how wonderful your healing powers were and realized he was depressed like I was, I let Whiskey leave and look into a few things he had to do, away from here. I’ve asked the other healers to let you be while you work. Don’t worry about my shop—I have a few elves willing to take over for me for a day. They understand that with my knowledge of elemental magic, I can work with herbs better than most other trained healers, and have to leave my shop for a while. Of course, I’m not anywhere as good as you at healing.” She winked. “But I shouldn’t let my tongue run away from me. Go on to your room, I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Rain nodded and smiled in appreciation. Rowena pointed the way back to the nearest staircase, and Rain slowly made her way back to her room, eventually collapsing on the bed without even removing her shoes.

***

The next morning in the haze of waking, Rain found Rowena waiting in the main room for her, sipping tea and mulling over an old book. The day was slightly overcast, and the darkness of dawn lingered so that candlelight was still necessary to be able to read.

Rowena noticed her and smiled. “Good morning, Rain.”

“Morning,” she mumbled back. It felt too early to think clearly.

Rowena glanced back at her book. “I’ve been rereading this part of the Histories that mentions the Hollow, or rather, the door that lies within it. It hints that it could be in the very center of the Hollow.” Before she went on, she motioned for Rain to sit in a chair beside her. In front of her beside the candle on the table was a second steaming cup of tea. Rain gladly sipped it, letting the warm liquid soothe her and wake her up.

Rowena waited for her to come to her senses a bit more before continuing. She looked her straight in the eye, speaking quietly and urgently. “It could be an incredibly dangerous journey. No one quite knows what evil lurks in the Hollow.”

The door opened behind them with a click.

“What’s all this?”

She turned to see Whiskey in his bedroom doorway, clad in his nightclothes and scratching his head drowsily.

“Nothing, Deaglan, go back to sleep,” Rowena said.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he slurred sleepily.

“Go on, back to bed with you.” She flicked her hand in his direction and the air in front of him seemed to give him a little push backwards.

“Alright, woman. You always were insufferable.” He groggily shuffled back in his room and shut the door.

Rain held back a giggle. “Do we need a safer place to talk?”

“We don’t have much time. He should be sleeping soundly now, for a while at least. I’ll finish up quickly and you can be on your way. I’ll tell you what I know and what I’ve found recently in these books.” As Rain sipped her tea, Rowena explained how to find the way down into the Hollow; the descending stairs would likely be obscured and overgrown. “It’s a two day journey, but if you ride hard, you might make it in one. After that, all I know is you’ll need to find your way to the center. Arok’Amon, the Great Tree, houses the door. It is underground, so its entrance is likely hidden. Here, it says, ‘To travel through the Hollow door, visualize the symbol of the place you would like to go.’ I believe, since the moon elves’ symbol is the crescent moon, you should use that to visualize. To come back to Ellwood, use the design on the guards’ surcoats, a tree surrounded by woven knots.”

She paused. “The creatures in the Hollow are a mystery, but legend says they are dark and dangerous. If possible, I’d avoid sleeping there. One defense it mentions is light, so keep your lantern or a torch lit at all times. And please, do be careful,” she added quietly.

“I will,” Rain promised, taking a last sip of her tea. “Is that all? Do you know how long it will take to traverse the Hollow and find the door?”

“It’s impossible to tell. No one has returned from that place in hundreds of years.” She closed the book and sighed. “I guess you’d better get ready to go. I’ll gather provisions for you and meet you in the stables.”

“Thank you,” she said, though Rowena’s words had given her a sense of fear. Rowena nodded modestly and left the room carrying the book.

Rowena had done so much research, but none of it reassured Rain like she hoped it might. She took a deep breath and went to her room to begin packing, hurrying as the morning crept onward.

***

The overcast skies lit their way as Rowena walked Rain to the edge of the city. Morning’s light had grown to its brightest, but it was still as dim as early dawn. It felt like a bad omen, but it could have been her fears running away with her. She was reminded of the first time she left the city. This time, her survival wasn’t as certain. But she reminded herself: this was for the people of Belmaeron and Ellwood. She had to save them before Myrna overtook all of them with the Soulblight.

“You’re sure you don’t even know what sort of form the cure will take?” she asked Rowena.

“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t have a clue. The only hint we have to a cure is in your prophecy.” She stopped moving. They were at the outer edge of the city, where the outermost guards were stationed, hidden in the trees. “This is as far as I should go. I have to go back to the infirmary today.” She grasped Rain’s hand firmly in her own. “You can do it. I know you can.”

“What will they do to you if they find out you helped me?” Rain wondered aloud.

She smiled. “Don’t worry about it, there are people who will understand and see our side of things.” She turned her attention to the saddlebags on Pan’s back. “Do you have all the torch makings I told you to gather? It will be vitally important that you have a source of light when traveling through the Hollow.”

“Yes, I have it all.” Looking at Rowena’s worried face, it struck her that she might not ever see her again. She took a deep breath to keep herself calm. “Goodbye, Rowena. Thank you for everything.”

Rowena’s nod was deep enough to be a bow. Rain then swung herself onto Pan’s saddle and turned around to face the road ahead. With Rowena’s directions in mind, she kicked Pan into a fast gait and left Belmaeron and the people she loved and cared for behind.

***

The day wore on in uneasy silence, the overcast skies keeping the forest dim. She stopped twice to eat a bit of the food Rowena packed for her and to rest Pan, as he was riding at a rather fast trot. Midday, or close to it, as she couldn’t tell with the sun hidden behind the clouds, she decided to make her first stop. She found a sturdy log to sit on and a small stream nearby, and after feeding Pan a few oats and letting him drink, she searched through her bags for food for herself.

She found one of the Ellwood apples and a block of cheese. With her dagger, she carefully cut a piece of cheese and then sat on the log to eat. The cheese was salty with a bit of a nutty taste, and the apple was just as crisp and sweet as she remembered them to be. She tried focusing her thoughts on the food rather than thinking about where she was going and why.

The food was gone before she knew it. “Okay, Shea, time to—” she looked around her briefly at the empty forest and felt utterly foolish at her slip. A sense of how alone she really was stole over her, and she forced tears back. She’d give anything to have him here, sharing food and conversation. But she supposed that was exactly what she was doing; finding a way for him to be his usual self again. This journey she had to do alone—on behalf of him.

Those thoughts finally helped her get herself together and start off down the path again. If the knowledge that she’d be helping hundreds of people and their families wasn’t enough, she’d do it for him.

***

She stopped again to rest after a few hours, and soon after setting off, with Pan’s fast pace, she reached the cliffs. Pulling up the reins, she slowed Pan to a walk and headed along the edge to the southeast, scouting through the thick brush along the drop off. Rowena had warned that the staircase that descended into the Hollow was most likely overgrown, and she had to look carefully so she didn’t miss it. She didn’t know how many miles she’d have to go along the edge until she found it—that was the tricky part.

“Hello there!” a high-pitched, childlike voice said.

Rain pulled up the reins sharply in surprise. “Who’s there?” she looked around but couldn’t see anyone.

“Up here, silly.”

She looked up into the limbs of the thin trees that lined the edge of the cliff, searching for signs of movement.

“Where—”

“Here!” A tiny creature appeared in the tree, swinging from a thin branch. It appeared to be a tiny girl, only a few inches tall, wearing a dress of bright green leaves. Long, bright blonde hair hung nearly to her knees. She expected such a small creature to have wings, but she had none, and instead moved with an acrobat’s grace. She swung again and jumped down, landing gracefully on Pan’s neck. He didn’t seem to notice.

“What—who are you?” Rain asked, genuinely curious.

The little girl sat down and put her hands on her hips. “I’m Caemira. A wood sprite.” Her face had a playful, curious expression. “Who and what are you?” she asked, as if it were her question in the first place.

“Rain, and I’m a… moon elf.” It was strange to say it so bluntly.

Caemira blinked, confused. “Well I don’t know what that is, but it’s nice to meet you.” She grinned. “Where are you going?”

Her direct questions were almost refreshing, but she remembered to be careful. “I’m trying to find my way down to the Hollow.”

Caemira frowned. “Why would you want to go there? It’s dark.”

A tingle went down Rain’s spine. She somehow knew the sprite wasn’t just talking about the absence of light.

“I’m searching for something.”

Her eyes widened. “Arok’Amon, the Great Tree?”

“Well, yes.” Rain looked at her curiously. “How did you know?”

She giggled. “The trees have been talking about you for days. They’re expecting you.”

Rain frowned. “The trees?”

“Of course, the trees.” She turned around so she sat facing away from her, toward the path ahead. “Keep going, I’ll show you the way down. It’s not a happy place, but you are important.”

Rain nudged Pan and he started walking. “Important?”

Caemira turned her head back to look her in the eye. “Yes, don’t you know?” she turned back around. “You must know.”

“Know what?”

“I don’t know,” she giggled, her laugh like the tinkling of a bell. “But if you are important, I’m sure you know. How could someone be important without knowing?”

She shook her head at the sprite’s logic. “Alright, then, show me the way down into the Hollow.”

***

Caemira led her further along the edge of the cliffs, with the immense trees of Ellwood to their left and thin trees and undergrowth shielding them on their right from the steep drop off. The little sprite chattered about how to listen to the trees, excited to share her knowledge with someone.

“All you have to do is be quiet and listen. It does help if you put a hand on the tree trunk, or sit on the ground near it. I can hear them chatter all the time, but that’s probably because I’m a wood sprite.” She giggled merrily.

“Do wood sprites often help travelers?” Rain asked.

“If the traveler can use the help we can give, of course.” She was silent for a moment. “Strange things have been happening lately. Scary things. I see animals with the Soulblight roaming around, attacking innocent creatures. None of it makes sense.” She turned around to give her a brief smile. “But you’re here to change that. I can feel it. I’m truly honored to be helping you.” She laughed happily again, turning from serious thought to playful joy in a heartbeat.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I will succeed, either. This could all be for nothing.” Depression seeped into her like a cold fog.

“I believe in you!” she said enthusiastically, and Rain laughed along with her, whether from happiness or to keep from crying, she wasn’t sure.

After a few minutes, the sprite pointed to their right. “Just there, between those two big rocks.”

Rain looked and saw two boulders that sat about knee-height, set five feet apart. This part of the cliff was less steep, and as they approached the boulders, she saw the path switchbacked down into darkness. The sun hadn’t quite reached the horizon, but she felt uneasy about entering the Hollow so close to nighttime. The thick forest below was already dark and gloomy.

“There it is,” Rain said.

The sprite looked uneasy. “I can’t come with you down there. It’s not safe.”

“No, I’m sure it isn’t,” Rain said as she fingered the string of her bow that hung across her chest.

After a moment of uneasy silence, Caemira looked at her. “You don’t have to go down there tonight, do you? You could rest up here and go in the morning.” She grinned. “Then I could tell you more about the forest.”

“Don’t you have a home to go back to?” Rain asked, worried that she had a family wondering where she was.

The sprite’s face withered and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. “My friends and family are gone. We lived with the trees in the northeast. A strange sickness swept through my people. We aren’t strong enough to withstand it, like some apparently are. I was traveling for a time on my own, as sprites do when they come of age. They find homes of their own. When I went back to visit my family, they were gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Caemira,” she said, and held out her hand to let her sit on it, hoping it would bring her some comfort.

The sprite hoisted herself up into Rain’s palm and sat cross-legged, facing her. “It’s part of life,” she said matter-of-factly. “I had to move on some day, and I suppose that’s just what happened.” Rain was amazed at how well the little creature handled her grief.

“You know, I think I will set up camp here, tonight. Why don’t you come with me, and I can at least give you some food, as thanks for your help,” she offered.

“Great!” Her face lit up. “I saw a place over there.” She pointed back into the woods to their left.

With her free hand, she led Pan to a trio of huge trees with a small clearing between them. She lowered her hand, careful not to fall of the saddle, and Caemira gracefully leapt the last few feet to the ground. The sprite scampered up one of the trees to watch as Rain pulled out her blanket roll, food, and water for both of them, plus the horse. She decided to go without a fire and eat the fresh food in the pack instead, pulling out another apple, half a loaf of bread, and a few strips of dried meat. She planned to share whatever the sprite wanted.

After quickly taking off Pan’s saddle and tack, giving him water, and feeding him, she lay out her blanket and sat on it, then patted the space next to her, inviting Caemira to join her.

The sprite quickly came down the tree and sat next to her, eyeing the food hungrily. “Do you like any of this food?” she asked, realizing what she had to eat might not be suitable for someone as small as Caemira.

She pointed at the bread. “I love bread. I don’t get to have it very often, foraging the forest as I usually do.”

Rain nodded and picked up the loaf, breaking it up into large crumbs, each of them ending up nearly as big as Caemira’s head. The sprite took a crumb and started nibbling on it, and Rain tore off a piece for herself, following suit.

“I’m sorry you have to go down there,” Caemira said after a few bites.

Rain swallowed and studied her face for a moment. “Do you know any more about what’s down there?”

The sprite looked over at the distant path leading into the Hollow. “I know it’s dark. The things inside love darkness. They probably wouldn’t like light, though, so make sure to take a light with you.”

“Yes, I will. I have the ingredients for a torch.” She pointed to her saddlebags.

“Don’t let it go out! Even in the daytime,” she asserted. “I haven’t dared travel there, but it’s obvious from observing the entrance that it’s dark even during the day.”

“How dark?” Rain wondered.

“Darker than the darkest night.”

They were silent for a moment, and the hairs at the back of Rain’s neck stood on end. At first it seemed to be from their conversation, but the sensation continued as if someone was watching them. She searched the surrounding darkening woods for movement.

“I think you’d better make your torch now,” Caemira said warily. “Even being this far from the entrance to the Hollow is dangerous.”

Rain nodded and stood up carefully and quietly, the whole time feeling nervous. After a quick look around the immediate area, she found a sturdy, thick branch on the ground. Her hands shook as she soaked a spare cloth in a tin of tree sap.

When the torch was ready to be lit, she clutched a piece of flint from her bag and struggled to strike it with the steel. Her hands would not stop shaking. After a few tries and no success, she stuffed the flint and steel back in her bag in frustration. She ran her hands through her hair, thinking.

Suddenly she remembered she could use magic, and almost laughed at how she wasn’t yet used to having powers. As she held her empty hand above the cloth at the head of the torch, she pictured a flame in her mind’s eye, letting energy flow through her hand. Her hand grew warm and orange light seeped from her skin, flowing outwards and spiraling around the wet cloth. It congealed at the top of the thick branch, and fire flared to life.

A piercing cry banished any thought of success. She spun around, searching the tree branches for the source of the sound. A raven stared back at her, cawing noisily. Every cry sent a bolt of fear through her, and she nearly dropped the torch. She stood up and tried to find somewhere to put the torch so she could shoot the bird.

“No time for that! Run!” Caemira whispered, already seated on Pan’s neck. “Get away! This isn’t a good sign.” At her urging, Rain instead hurriedly put away her blanket and leftover food with her free hand.

“Where to?” she asked as she mounted, holding the torch in one hand and the reins in the other.

“Down,” Caemira said ominously.

“Into the Hollow? But I thought it was more dangerous at night.” Rain didn’t need to prod Pan before he hurried away from the raven in the tree.

“If a raven doesn’t attack you, it’s announcing your location to others,” the sprite explained. “You can’t trust a raven anymore. Nearly all of them have been tainted by the Soulblight.” Rain looked at her skeptically and glanced back at the noisy raven.

Cawing sounds began to come from far away in every direction, growing louder by the second. The sprite gasped. “Do you want to be pecked to death?!” Caemira nearly shrieked. “Hurry up! They won’t follow you into the Hollow.” Rain kicked Pan’s side and sent him into a scrambling trot.

When they reached the cliff edge, she stopped.

“Go on, then, I don’t want to put you in danger. Thank you for your help,” Rain said, urging Caemira to escape to the trees. “I’m sure they were alerted to my presence by my use of magic. They won’t chase you.”

“No, I’m going with you. You need help.” She smiled. “And you have good food.”

“Alright,” Rain smiled briefly back at her, wondering that the sprite could find something to grin about at a time like this. She didn’t have time to argue, so she nudged the reluctant Pan forward, down the path that switchbacked into the darkness below.

The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 15

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Link to Chapter 1 – Previous Chapter – Next Chapter


Rain drifted in and out of consciousness. At times in the haziness of waking, she felt a bitter, warm liquid slide down her throat or a cool cloth on her forehead. Time slipped by unnoticed. It could have been a few minutes or a few days.

A warm hand on her brow awakened her. Her eyes fluttered open. She could finally see clearly, and her thinking was unclouded. It was as if the dark veil had been lifted. She opened her eyes and saw she was on the bed in her usual room. It was dark outside, and a candle was lit near the doorway. The hand, which turned out to be Whiskey’s, lifted off her forehead and he grinned at her. He sat by her bedside, and his eyes held a weariness she hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re awake!” he said, as if he wasn’t sure she would be.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You were stabbed in the side, and have a nasty bruise on the back of your head. The healers have been working on you, but you’re still weak. You should be fine, though.” He smiled and held her hand between his own.

“How long have I been sleeping?” she asked.

He looked out the window. “You were out for most of the day.” His eyes clouded over as he explained what had happened. “The healer who attacked you had been assigned to work with Shea, but she had been more affected by the Soulblight than the others thought. It was the first incident of someone becoming possessed, other than Shea. When another healer, one who was taking care of patients, finally caught up with her, you had just been attacked. She had brought a guard to help restrain the other healer, but you went limp before the guard could pry her away from you.” Through her clouded memory, she remembered the thudding sound, and the muffled ones after. The healer must have opened the door and found her just as the blackness had taken her.

Rain shifted in the bed, trying to sit up, and felt pain in her side where she had been stabbed.

“Try not to move. You should stay in bed until morning. You’re not completely healed yet. Sleep if you can. The elemental magic the healer applied should work fairly quickly, but it’s a deep wound.”

She moved the bedcovers and tried to find the wound with her hands. “Let me see if I can fix it…”

Whiskey grabbed her arm to stop her from moving. “Rain, you can’t do that. If you try magic when you’re weak, you could exhaust yourself too far.”

Rain gave him a scrutinizing look. “I thought I had just as much energy as I always do. And if I exhaust myself, well, you want me to stay in bed till morning.” He was silent, so she added, “What’s wrong with you? You seem almost… depressed.”

“I’m fine,” he said, still holding her arm. Rain wasn’t convinced. Quick as she could, she called in red energy and lifted her other hand so Whiskey could see the red tendrils of light. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll make you. And you know I’m stronger.”

There was a pained look in his eyes, but he let her go.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and decided to wait until he wasn’t in the room to use the magic, in case it upset him further.

Her gaze wandered to the darkened window again, and it finally settled in that a whole day had gone by. There was one less day to prepare for the attack. She had to do something, convince someone.

“How far has the Council gotten with the prophecy? You said they’d look at it today.” she asked, wondering if they’d come to her conclusion.

“We put the meeting off, since you were hurt. You should be there.”

“But we need to start working on it! You don’t have time to wait for me to heal,” she insisted.

“Rain, your dreams were just dreams. Besides, if you knew where the door in the Hollow was, how could you know it would be safe to open? It could very well be how Myrna sent the moon elves away, and by opening it, you could wreak the same havoc she did.”

“We have to do something—” she tried to sit up again, but he eased her back down.

“Rest, child. We are doing what we can. And please don’t try to heal yourself, let the elemental magic do its work.” He left the room, closing the door carefully behind him.

It was strange for her to directly go against Whiskey’s wishes, but she knew something felt wrong with him, and he wasn’t thinking straight.

While keeping her head on the pillow, Rain pushed the covers off and saw the wound bandage under her shirt. She lifted her shirt a little so she could put her hands directly on the bandage, and called in healing energy. Her hands glowed yellow, and she imagined muscle and skin repairing itself, much like when she healed Shea’s wolf bite. It was the strangest feeling, like warm threads of air were going inside her and weaving her back together.

It seemed to take more energy from her than it had when she healed Shea. She wondered if it was because she was working on herself, or because this was a worse wound. Probably a combination. Once she felt finished, even though she wanted to get up, she was so exhausted she fell asleep.

***

The warm early morning sunlight streamed through Rain’s window and woke her. She remembered she’d tried healing herself, and found it didn’t hurt to sit up. She removed her bandage to see what the wound looked like.

The wound wasn’t there. She felt the skin, and it was normal, it a little bloody from the bandage. It was still surprising to her, even after witnessing her healing powers before.

Shea came to mind. She nearly decided to go visit him, but decided it would be too difficult, emotionally. Even if she were allowed to see him, he wouldn’t respond to anything she’d say. Even the sunlight seemed bleak at the thought. She’d lost so much. Her parents who were in fact her adopted parents, her home and old life, and now she was losing the one man she’d ever been interested in.

She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. Someone had to be warned of the coming attack, and the Hollow had to be opened and the moon elves found. Determination settled in her mind, and she got out of bed.

A second set of her leather traveling clothes was in the bottom of her saddlebags, which she decided to wear. It was the most comfortable and practical outfit to wear for what she was planning.

She checked to make sure she had everything. Belt and dagger, in case she came across another person trying to kill her. Aegis to help protect against…

The possessed healer had broken it. Where was it? For a frantic moment she searched the room, but found it lying on the bedside table. It was still broken.

She sat on the bed and held it in her hands, calling on the creative orange energy, picturing the chain whole and the clasp extra tough, in case Myrna tried pulling it off again. It repaired itself in front of her, the orange tendrils of light weaving around the chain.

As she put the repaired aegis back on, she felt the tender spot on the back of her neck where her skin had been burned by the chain. She let a trickle of healing energy cover the burn and the pain went away instantly. She smiled, glad she could deal with these things on her own. In this world, it seemed having magic at your disposal was almost a necessity.

She wasn’t sure yet who to go to for help, but she thought she’d start at the archery range, with Aeraldor. Perhaps Whiskey and Rowena were feeling effects from being around people with the Soulblight in the infirmary, but Aeraldor was working with soldiers, not patients.

In the front room was another plate of food for breakfast. There was no time to eat inside and she didn’t want a repeat of yesterday, so she grabbed a sweet, crisp apple and headed out the door, eating while she walked.

When she neared the practice areas, she could hear a few guards out training. The clashing of swords rang through the trees, and every so often she’d hear the thunk of an arrow hitting a target. She hoped Aeraldor would be out this early.

She spotted Kalmin in front of the targets, shooting alone. He aimed and released his arrow, and it hit dead center.

“Great job, Kalmin. Keep going.” She felt relief steal over her at the sound of Aeraldor’s voice. She wouldn’t have to go searching for him after all.

She hurried forward. The centaur stood by a large tree, watching Kalmin shoot. He spotted her and waved enthusiastically.

“Sister Rain, it’s good to see you! I heard you returned from your travels, and of your attack. I’m glad you’re alright.” He smiled, happier than she expected him to be.

Kalmin looked over and after seeing her, slowly let the bowstring down. “You’re back! Are you here to shoot?” He gave her a genuine smile. From their reactions, she wondered if everyone thought it had been a suicide mission.

“Actually, I’d like a word with Aeraldor.” They noticed the gravity in her words and Kalmin nodded, going back to his shooting.

“Come, walk with me.” Aeraldor put his hand on her shoulder and led her down the path toward the place they’d gone before, overlooking the Hollow. Once they were far enough into the trees that they wouldn’t be overheard by guards in training, Aeraldor spoke up.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Dreams.” She thought for a moment, phrasing what she had to say so that he’d take her seriously. They continued walking slowly in the quiet of the forest. “I’ve had some that I believe are prophetic, because I saw a dreamwalker. They felt very real. I mentioned them to Whiskey and Rowena, but they didn’t believe what I saw was important, and so probably didn’t pass on the information to you. I think being around cursed people has been getting to them.”

He looked at her for a moment, searching her face for something. “I see.” He turned his gaze back to the path in front of them. “Tell me about the dreams.”

She explained first the dream about the door in the Hollow, describing the decorated hall and the torches that lit by themselves.

“Amazing. Quite remarkable, really. That is exactly how they describe the place in the Histories.”

“Histories? I thought it was just legend. At least, Rowena said so.”

“Many people think they are. Some of the history books are so old, they’ve fallen into legend. The stories about the door in the Hollow are in one of those books.”

“I also had another dream.” She told him how she’d seen the city burning and knew there would be craetons coming. She told him of the warning that the attack would come the next week.

At that, he stopped walking and turned to her. “You said Whiskey and Rowena didn’t believe you? They should be taking everything you say seriously, most importantly if your dreams involved dreamwalkers. I don’t know much about them, but I have heard that they can make dreams reality, or something like that.” He thought for a moment, staring off into the trees. “Both of them have been spending a great deal of time in the infirmaries, tending the sick with their poultices and herbs.” He turned to look at her again. “I think you’re right. Perhaps they need healing themselves.” He began to walk again, but back towards the training grounds, and she followed. “But that’s not as important as your message. We need to gather what forces we have and protect ourselves. We don’t have much time at all.”

Despite the overwhelming sense of doom, Rain felt a spark of hope ignite in her. At least one person believed her. “Can you do anything without the others’ consent? What if they don’t believe you?”

“I will begin by explaining to King Arthain what you have told me. I will call a brief Council meeting, and send messengers out for reinforcements. We will do our best.” As they approached the training areas, he gestured at the guards sparring and shooting and added, “It’s what they’ve really been training for.”

***

Rain sat anxiously beside Aeraldor at the Council meeting. Everyone from the first meeting was there except Shea. Rain had told them about her dreams, and the centaur explained the action he proposed to take.

“Aeraldor, you’re sure of this?” King Arthain questioned. His wife sat silently by his side, but her expression said she agreed with him. “We don’t want to prepare for a battle if we won’t be fighting one.”

“It is better to be prepared than not,” Aeraldor countered, and she heard murmurs of agreement around the table, surprisingly even from Gaelin. The only ones that sat in silence were Whiskey and Rowena.

Terramina spoke up. “I do not know very much about dreamwalkers, but I expect it is usually difficult to interpret the dreams until it’s too late. I agree it is better to be safe.”

“How much of a chance do we even have?” Whiskey looked accusingly at Aeraldor. “With half the city sick, including all the guards that have been attacked at the borders of the city, how will we be able to get enough help?”

“There are many of my warriors here, and they are all well,” Gaelin said.

“Only because they spend all their time in the taverns,” Terramina accused.

The dwarf’s face reddened. “At least they can go into battle! Your people spend all their time in the woods with the cursed animals!”

The elven king had been deliberating during the Council’s bickering, but now his voice was loud and clear, silencing the others. “We must work together to gather enough forces to counterattack the craetons. I see now that we must assume they are coming, or the worst could happen.” He looked at Whiskey. “I’m surprised at you, Deaglan. You’re usually the optimistic one. This is no time to put your worry in other people’s minds. This is a time for strength.”

Whiskey was silent. Rain thought she should say something about the infirmary affecting his mood, but wondered what anyone could do if that was true. From what she understood, Whiskey and Rowena were some of the best elemental magic users, and anyone who would replace them would end up just like them, anyway. They had bigger problems to deal with.

Rowena took out her notebook and tore out the page she’d written the prophecy on, and then slid it across the table to King Arthain.

He nodded. “I was told you received this from the Goddess,” he said to Rain. “Thank you ever so much for your good work, Sister. We have a few scholars versed in Old Elvish, and I will put them to work translating it.”

“I understand the prophecy myself, though I don’t know Old Elvish,” Rain said. “And I remember it perfectly. Could I help in its translation, or at least with deciphering what it means? I think it would be worth looking into what they mean by ‘opening’ the Hollow.”

“Our experts have read the Histories and the legends and might know a bit more than you about what the prophecy could mean.” Rowena sounded apologetic, but Rain was surprised at her blunt words. “I’m sure we could use you in the infirmary, though. Even if you tried puzzling it out with them, they wouldn’t be able to keep up with you, and you could come to the wrong conclusion.”

“Let her work on it, it was she who traveled to retrieve it,” the faerie queen said. “It might be more help than another set of hands in the infirmary.”

“She won’t just be another set of hands,” Rowena said. “She’s mastered the art of healing with innate magic. She can cure physical wounds and fevers in a few brief moments.”

There were a few gasps of awe around the table.

“The art of the innate is back in practice,” Queen Maevara said with a smile. “I thought I’d never see the day.”

“I can’t cure mental wounds,” Rain added. “We still need to find the cure to the Soulblight.”

“Nevertheless, it does sound like you belong in the infirmary,” Queen Maevara said. Her face was kind. “We know that you care for Shea, and it might feel good to you if you worked close to him.”

Rain’s face grew warm. “How…” she began, but then felt it would be too juvenile a question. Had it been that obvious?

“You called him through the aegis.” The elf queen touched the chain around her neck. The stone on the end of it was hidden under her collar, but Rain remembered what Rowena had said and knew it was the same as hers. “A few days ago, we all felt it.”

“That’s right,” Queen Terramina said. “You called his name, and in that call we could feel both your love for him and your urgency to find him. We haven’t used that aspect of the aegises for a long time, since there have been none on the Council with the required innate magic to call on it.” She smiled. “Myself, I’ve never felt the aegis’ communication powers before. I was only told about it when I joined the council a few years ago. It was a reminder to me, at least, that a new time is coming.”

King Arthain nodded. “Well said, Terramina.”

Rain wasn’t sure what to say, so she just nodded and smiled weakly. She had only called Shea through the aegis out of desperation, and didn’t think it would work, but she was glad it gave at least a few of them hope. She also supposed that practicing healing in the infirmary would increase the amount of yellow energy at her disposal.

After a few more minor matters, the Council finished and they filed out of the bubble of air that kept their words within and the world without. Rain considered her options. The infirmary sounded like a good idea, but if it would do to her what it seemed to have done to Whiskey and Rowena, it could ruin everything. Besides, there would be the greater possibility of running into Myrna in someone else’s body. She would have to be careful.

She couldn’t spend very long there, though. They couldn’t spend days and days decoding the prophecy like some tricky puzzle. Someone had to act right away, and the only one who could do that was her. The city seemed to have its battle plans under control, especially under the command of Aeraldor. If she left for the Hollow as soon as possible, there was a small chance she could find a cure and help them, whether she came back before or after the battle. A small chance, but it was more than they’d have if no one did anything.

***

Rain began forming plans to leave as she was taken to the infirmary by Rowena and Whiskey. She planned to only see what the environment was like, and to tell if that was why Whiskey and Rowena didn’t seem themselves. Once she found a clue of to how to find the door in the Hollow, she’d be on her way.

The infirmary was on the ground level, split between many trees inset with rooms, much like their small living space on the third level.

“We don’t have much space,” Rowena warned her as they approached the trees as thick as houses, “because we’ve had to put beds closer together to fit everyone. We’ve even had to use the room designated for storing herbs used in elemental magic. It’s a tight working space, but we’re managing.” She nodded at Whiskey as he left to attend to the patients in one of the rooms.

After a minute, Rain realized the trees had concealed doors, and counted them. “But… there are only five trees with rooms,” she remarked. “How do you fit all of the patients? There must be at least a hundred.”

“We are beginning to have to refuse patients, and we have to let some go that can be taken care of at home. Those without high fevers, despite their varying states of catatonia—keeping still for hours at a time and not reacting to the outside world—are told to be taken home and looked after there. We can now only house the ones with the direst need, but we are still running out of room.” Rowena approached one of the doors. “I’d like to see what you can do to help the ones with the worst fevers, at the beginning stage of the Soulblight. I’m sorry for bringing you to the sickest patients first, but I believe you would do the best work here. Besides, it’s not really safe for you to be around the ones that could become possessed.” She opened the door quietly and motioned for Rain to go inside.

The first thing Rain noticed was the quiet, and it made her uneasy. It was as if she and Rowena were the only ones in the room. The round space, larger than it looked from the outside, was split into ten equal sections, separated with sheets hanging from the ceiling. She guessed there was usually one person per section. Now, there were two. Twenty people lay feverish, not quite in the stupor stage of the Soulblight. Windows were spaced evenly around the room, but still the light was dim.

Rain couldn’t find anything to say. It was her first glimpse into the depth of the destruction the Soulblight was causing, and it stunned her.

“Come,” Rowena said quietly. She led her to a pair of patients on the far side of the room. Their green skin and leafy hair marked them as dryads. Both were female. They were gaunt-looking and dry. The tips of their hair-leaves were turning yellow, and even slightly brown. “The Soulblight has hit the dryads and faeries the hardest. They spend more of their time roaming the forest than the elves, dwarves, or gnomes, and come in contact with the cursed animals more often. You can see they are dehydrated.” She remembered from childhood stories that dryads were so close to the earth that they were more plant than elf or human. To survive, dryads only needed water and sunlight. These two dryads were positioned directly under a window, but they must not have been correctly absorbing the light or any water given to them, and were starving.

“Is there any other way to feed them, if they can’t absorb the water?” she asked.

Rowena looked at her curiously. “You do know a lot about dryads, don’t you? Good question. No, there really isn’t a good way to feed them. That’s why you’re here, to hopefully rid them of their fevers.”

Rain nodded and looked again at their faces. Both seemed to be asleep, if troubled. “Which should I work on first?”

“Ferdraea,” Rowena said, gesturing to the one on the left. “We’ve tried calming the fever’s affects on her with herbs, but they don’t seem to be working. All we can do is help her sleep.” Rowena found a three-legged wooden stool and pulled it up to the bed behind the dryad’s head. “I’ll watch for a minute and help you get started, but I should keep administering healing spells and herbs to the other patients.”

Rain stepped over to the stool and sat down. She couldn’t duck out of the infirmary now that she’d started, and certainly a part of her wanted to use her powers to help these poor creatures. One day here couldn’t hurt, she figured, though looking around the cramped place made her nervous.

She gingerly took Ferdraea’s head in her hands, feeling the crispy ends of the browning leaves in her palms. She closed her eyes to the sickly bodies around her and focused, willing the healing, life-giving energy to flow through her. Almost immediately, her hands began to warm up and tingle, and she focused the energy to enter the dryad’s body.

In mere minutes, Ferdraea’s head seemed to relax in her hands, even soften. She wondered what it was she was feeling, and opened her eyes.

The leaves under her hands had all turned green again, all the way to the tips, with no remaining sign of dryness. Her features had calmed, and she seemed to be in a deeper, calmer sleep than before.

She looked up at Rowena and was slightly taken aback at her expression. Her eyes were wide in disbelief and her hand was at her mouth.

“Are you alright?” Rain asked.

“I… I thought I was surprised at your healing powers before, but this is amazing. We had thought she’d die. The few truly sick dryads we’ve treated have rarely lived past the first stage of fever, given their fragile bodies…” she trailed off, transfixed by the sudden transformation Ferdraea’s body had taken. “I’m sorry, it’s just amazing to see her healed so quickly!” her face lit up, looking happier than she’d been since Rain had come back. She stood in silent appreciation while Rain continued.

After a few more minutes, Rain gingerly let Ferdraea’s head rest on the pillow, feeling the dryad had absorbed enough energy for now. Rowena hurried forward and Rain stood up just before she gave her a tight embrace. She spoke quietly into her ear. “Maybe you can’t heal their minds, but healing their bodies sure helps the hope for a cure come back to me.” She pulled away. “I’m sorry I’ve been so down lately. Something’s wrong with me. Every so often I come to my senses.” She put her hand to her forehead as if testing herself for a fever. “I’ve been thinking. Seeing how quickly you can administer even short-lived healing, if you help me with the patients today, I will help you get to the Hollow.”

Rain looked at her in surprise. “Really? You’ll help?” She grinned. Something drastic had changed in Rowena, as if the healing Rain had done for Ferdraea had helped Rowena as well. She knew that wasn’t quite it, but something about the healing process had made Rowena wake up, at least for a little while. Perhaps it just gave Rowena hope to see such instantaneous healing.

“Yes,” Rowena said. Her voice now held a hint of hope. “Let’s get as much work done as we can today. Now I don’t want to work you too hard, either. So let me know if you’re getting tired. You can start with this room. Just go to each patient, one by one, and see what you can do. I’ll be wandering between the infirmary rooms if you need me.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best,” she replied while moving the stool to the dryad beside Ferdraea. She never expected to use her powers so deliberately or for such a long time, but she was glad that she could help. Rowena gave a quick nod as she left, and Rain took her second patient’s head in her hands.

The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 14

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When they reached the second level, the guard led them across platforms and walkways to a more central staircase to the third level. A few minutes later, they arrived at their familiar rooms in the trunk of a massive tree.

The guard opened the door and stuck his head inside. The hushed talking coming from inside stopped.

“Rain and Shea are back, sir,” he said, then nodded his head in respect.

There was a short silence, and then she heard Whiskey’s voice. “Well, send them in, son, right away! We don’t have time for formalities.”

“Yes sir, certainly.” The guard quickly took a step back and motioned for them to enter the room, smiled briefly, and left.

Rain pushed the door open wider. Inside, instead of more white orbs, a few candles were lit. Whiskey and Rowena sat opposite each other in comfy chairs, the small table between them. The filled water pitcher and fresh fruit on the table were forgotten.

Whiskey looked at her and smiled wide, happy to see them. It turned to a look of surprise, and then fear, when he glimpsed Shea coming in the room behind her.

“Oh… oh, no.” he whispered.

Rowena followed his gaze and shared his look of despair. She looked back at Rain. “He’s gotten it, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has the Soulblight.” The blunt words coming out of her own mouth caught her stomach in a death grip. She fought back the beginnings of tears with a sigh.

“Come, put down your things and sit with us. It is certainly good to see you alive and well.” Rowena smiled sadly, an odd sight for Rowena, and patted the seat of a chair next to her.

“How have things been going here?” Rain asked worriedly. Shea sat by Whiskey, staring at the wall.

Whiskey stared at one of the thick white candles on the table. “Horrible. More people are being infected by the day. Most don’t die, but they become quite weak with fever, and do not show any emotion. They do not move on their own, unless asked. It is so strange…” he trailed off into his own thoughts.

“Did you discover anything about the cure?” Rowena asked, dim hope lighting up her face.

Rain settled into her chair. “I’m not entirely sure.”

The two wizards looked at her quizzically.

“The Goddess told me a prophecy. It might have some kind of clue.” She proceeded to recite the prophecy spoken to her at the lake. As she spoke, Rowena quickly pulled out a notebook hidden somewhere in her robes, and scribbled down the words.

Rowena and Whiskey looked at each other. “You do know that you’re speaking in Old Elvish, yes?” Rowena said.

Rain frowned. “No I’m not, it’s…” She sighed. Another setback. Not much surprised her lately. “Can either of you understand it?”

“My old elvish is rusty, but I can mostly make it out,” Whiskey said.

“‘…open the Hollow,’” Rowena read. “That is an old legend.”

“Do you know what it means?” Rain asked in surprise.

“It is said that the Hollow itself was named after something else that lies deep within it, far underground. A portal, a door to other worlds.” Rowena looked out the window into the night.

Something clicked in Rain’s mind. The Hollow had sounded familiar, but now she knew why. The description of it brought her back to the dream she had with the door and the dreamwalker in the exquisitely decorated torch-lit room.

“Your description reminds me of that dream I had. Remember, Whiskey? Why don’t we go there?” She wasn’t eager for another long trip into the forest, but she would do it if it could save Shea and the others. “If we have to ‘open the Hollow’ to save the cursed ones, then we should be on our way soon.”

“We don’t know if that’s what the prophecy is implying,” Whiskey said. “‘The answer is buried deep inside.’ We don’t know where this answer is, only that it’s ‘inside’ somewhere.” He rubbed his hands over his face as if to say, “It’s hopeless.”

“But we have to do something,” Rain urged. It was strange for Whiskey to not make a plan, no matter how desperate things were.

“The door within the Hollow is only a legend,” Rowena insisted. “Perhaps the Goddess was alluding to something else.”

“No!” Rain said loudly, surprising Whiskey and Rowena, and even herself. She let her voice quiet considerably before continuing. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence. If she mentioned opening the Hollow and this door possibly exists, we should start by finding out if the legends are true. So many of the stories I learned as a child have turned out to be true, anyway…”

The corners of Whiskey’s mouth twitched up in a quick smile. “You sure have gained some nerve since I last saw you. We appreciate that you have your own ideas about how to solve this, but you’ve done your part. You went to Lake Dolmeria and got the information we needed, even if it’s not as clear as we’ve hoped. Tomorrow we will take the information to the Council and work out what the words of the prophecy mean, and take action from there.”

She glanced at Rowena, who nodded once in agreement. “Whiskey, you don’t understand. I’m not sure you’ll have time to puzzle out the prophecy.” Their faces turned to looks of concern. “I had another dream,” she said to Whiskey. “A craeton army came here, to Belmaeron, and attacked. There was a horrible storm, created by a Wingmaster. It all happened around twilight. Since it hasn’t happened yet, I think it will happen soon.”

“Did this dream have a dreamwalker in it?” Whiskey asked, calmer than Rain expected.

“Well, yes. I tried to warn people of the disaster I knew was coming, but the dwarf I tried to tell turned into the dreamwalker and made me watch the destruction…”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean the city will be destroyed. It could mean that dwarf you ran into is a real person, or that there will be a natural storm. Any small part of it could be the real part. It could have been sent to confuse us.” He sighed and stared into the candle flames. “We certainly have been attacked by the Soulblight. It could just be reflecting our troubles here with the sick.”

“You don’t know anything,” said a menacing voice.

They all stared at Shea. Rain froze when she saw his eyes had blackened again. It was Myrna this time.

“Don’t look at him!” Rain yelled. “Look away from his eyes!”

“The dream could mean anything, old man. Have you really considered the possibilities?” He smiled darkly. “No, you haven’t. Your thinking is too clouded to see hope. Your optimism is gone, isn’t it? It’s too bad. You weaklings don’t even need to be fully cursed to be depressed.” The corners of his lips turned down in a mocking frown.

Whiskey was stock still, trapped in Shea’s dark gaze. But Rowena gave Rain a quick look when Shea was looking the other way. Rain realized she wasn’t affected, but wanted Shea to think she was.

Rain had to do something. She looked around the room, searching for anything that could help her. Could she kill him if she had to? It would only be a last resort.

Shea stared at her with a strange, feral curiosity. Myrna was keeping Whiskey immobilized without even looking at him.

She spotted a handkerchief sitting under the water pitcher, and a thought came to her.

“Sister Rain,” Shea said with a sneer. “Now you see how weak your allies are. Not only your beloved Whiskey,” he spat, “but your parents, as well. Even the man who resides in this body. Truly weak.” He laughed. “The minds of humans are most interesting.”

“Get out of him!” Rain said. She lunged for the handkerchief, lifting the water pitcher to get to it. She began folding it into a thick strip. “Why do you talk through him, and not someone else? There are plenty of sick people for you to inhabit.” Perhaps if she kept whatever evil that was in Shea occupied with talking, she wouldn’t have to get out her knife.

“Oh, my dear, he is the most interesting.” Shea, or the evil inside him, smiled cruelly. “You escaped the wolf attack, but he did not. The thoughts he’s had, Sister, are most entertaining. And you two are connected. You love him, don’t you?” The voice chuckled.

A burst of rage filled her. She lunged forward and thrust the folded handkerchief over his eyes. He struggled and yelled, throwing his head around violently. She called on red energy and felt unnatural strength fill her arms. She managed to hold his head still and keep his arms and legs from getting in the way while tying the handkerchief around his head to cover his eyes.

Shea’s arms flailed, trying to grab the ends of the handkerchief to untie it. Rain gathered all the red energy she could to fend off his attacks. When Shea—or Myrna—realized he had to change tactics, he yelled and stood up, reaching downward to his belt. Rain struggled to keep him from grabbing his knife.

Rowena finally decided to help. She stood up and ran to the door, hastily rummaging through their saddlebags. She came back with a length of rope in one hand. She helped Rain by grabbing Shea’s right arm, which was dangerously close to his dagger, and forcing it behind his back. Rain helped her and they tied both of Shea’s hands.

When they let go of his hands, Shea lost his balance and fell to the floor, face first between the chairs. “You can hurt this body, but you cannot hurt me,” Myrna’s voice said, muffled by the floor. “You have no idea what’s coming.” In his weakened state, the voice wasn’t as threatening, but the truth in the words was clear to Rain. She had to convince the rest of the Council of the coming attack if Whiskey and Rowena wouldn’t listen.

After a scream of defiance, Shea’s body went still. Whiskey finally snapped out of his stupor, head in his hands as he tried to come to his senses. Rowena stepped forward and rolled Shea onto his back. His jaw was slack, and he had a bruise forming on his forehead from the fall. Myrna’s words echoed in Rain’s mind. You love him, don’t you? She held back a sob and felt tears spring to her eyes. It was torture to see him so ill, so helpless.

She stepped around him, pushing the chair out of the way, and kneeled on the floor by his head, cradling it in her lap. She placed her hand on his forehead and let the feeling of yellow energy fill her body, the light of healing and growth.

After a short minute, the bruise started to fade. Whiskey and Rowena stared at her and her glowing yellow hands. “You can heal? Already?” Whiskey asked in surprise, fully awake.

“You heal with elemental magic,” Rain said in the hope that he’d let the matter go. She released the yellow energy in her body but kept Shea’s head in her lap.

“It’s amazing you’ve figured out yellow energy on your won,” Rowena said, a smile lighting up her face. She bent down and felt Shea’s forehead. “The fever’s gone,” she said. “Rain, have you tried healing him from the Soulblight?”

“Yes, I don’t think it’s possible,” she said reluctantly. Whiskey nodded, as if he knew this already and was waiting for her to give the right answer.

“We should get him to the infirmary with the others, then, in case it comes back,” Rowena said.

“The fever isn’t the only thing that may come back,” Whiskey reminded them. “He could be talked through again—and we don’t want people around when that happens. This is the worst case of the Soulblight we’ve seen yet. Do you really think the infirmary is the safest place for him?”

Rowena stood up and stared at him worriedly. “What are you suggesting?”

“An isolation room.”

Rain wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it. “Why should only he be in isolation? Couldn’t the other cursed people be possessed as well?”

Whiskey shook his head, and she knew he wouldn’t change his mind. “He’s close to you. Myrna probably thinks it’s more painful for you to see him sick.”

“Will I be able to visit him?”

“No, child,” Whiskey said quietly. “He cannot see anyone other than the elemental healers.” Rowena looked sympathetic.

Despair filled her, and she felt the distance between her and Shea grow wider. She carefully set his head back on the floor and stood up, doing her best to keep in a positive frame of mind. It would do no good to become pessimistic like Whiskey and Rowena. If she couldn’t help save Shea directly, then she would look for a cure with her only clue, this Hollow place, no matter what the others said. But first, they had to prepare for attack. They had to believe her.

“There’s something else I should tell you. I met a woman named Edana on the way to Lake Dolmeria. She claimed to have been in love with a moon elf before they were banished.”

“Does she know anything more about where the moon elves are now?” Rowena asked.

“No. She…” Rain gathered her thoughts, doing her best not to burst into tears at the memory. “I think she was working for Myrna. But at the last minute, found out I was a moon elf and backed out of her mission to capture me, or whatever she was meant to do. And they killed her for it. I… I found her.”

“I’m sorry, Rain,” Rowena said.

“You walked into a trap,” Whiskey said. “You’re lucky she was gracious. Myrna’s practically unstoppable. You should be more careful next time.”

“Whiskey.” Rowena glared at him. “Don’t be like that. It must have been the Goddess’ grace that saved you, Rain. We can be grateful for that. And we need to believe that we have a chance against Myrna, or we don’t have one at all.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Rain said quietly.

“It’s getting late,” was all Whiskey said in response. “I’ll take him to the infirmary and see about getting him in an isolation room. You should get some rest, Rain. You just came back from a long journey.”

“Whiskey, you have to believe me about the attack. I’m sure it’s coming, the dream felt so real!” She realized she was pleading and knew that wouldn’t help convince him.

“We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”

He spoke a few words in the magic tongue of the elemental wizards and witches, and Shea was lifted off the floor as if with invisible hands. Whiskey stepped forward and took him in his arms with no effort. Rain somehow sensed the air was helping him with the weight. Whiskey carried Shea out the door and Rowena closed it behind him.

Rain decided to take advantage of the time she had alone with Rowena. “How did you resist it? Do you have an aegis?” Rowena’s collar hid even the chain from view.

“Yes. Everyone on the Council has one. They were created when the moon elves were still here. Not many were made, because it takes a lot of powerful magic to make one. That fear spell was typical of Myrna’s, so the Council decided it was best that they stay protected so they in turn could protect the rest of the people.”

“Why hasn’t Whiskey told me this? Or Shea? I know that Shea wanted to know.” She glanced at him, wondering if he could hear them, but his eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping.

“I don’t know. Perhaps he didn’t trust Shea completely. But I see he gave you his.”

Rain touched the chain around her neck. Did Rowena know that Shea had an aegis of his own? She wondered how his father had come upon one.

“Tell me more about the Hollow. How would someone travel there? Isn’t it completely surrounded by cliffs?”

Rowena raised her eyebrows, catching on quickly to Rain’s idea. “Young one, don’t even think about going alone. The Hollow is a dangerous place, and the door is only a legend.”

But it wasn’t just a legend. She somehow knew that. She had thought she could trust Rowena, that maybe Whiskey was the skeptical one. She’d have to try someone else.

“I suppose so,” she said, pretending to let the matter go. “I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

“Yes. I hope you get a good night’s sleep to recover for the long days ahead. Goddess knows how hard it’s been lately.” She smiled sadly and turned away, then left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

***

Rain didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, despite finally being in a bed. Why hadn’t Whiskey or Rowena believed her? When she had such vivid dreams, in her mind there was no denying their message. She’d have to try and find someone who would trust her, and it would have to be someone from the Council. But who?

After a few hours of restless tossing and turning, she slipped into a deep sleep.

She had the dream again.

The city was burning. People were dying. The dreamwalker appeared as before, and made her watch the destruction. She was powerless.

One week, the shadow-thing seemed to whisper into her mind.

***

Rain awoke in a sweat, heart pounding. She threw the covers off, stood up, and peeked out the window, pushing aside the soft green curtain. In the morning sky, a few thin clouds sat overhead. Nothing was out of the ordinary. But she knew, now. In one week, at twilight, the craetons would attack. The Wingmaster would burn the city. If she didn’t warn them, all that she now knew would be lost.

The elves had told them there were new changes of clothes in their bureaus, so she dug through them and dressed quickly in something she hoped wouldn’t be too conspicuous: a long-sleeved simple blue dress. After deliberating for a minute, she decided to put on her belt with the dagger and its sheath. She was used to wearing it by now, and without it she didn’t feel safe enough. She threw on a dark blue cloak, knowing it would be chilly outside. Autumn was soon drawing to a close.

In the small room outside her bedroom, a light breakfast of fresh bread and fruit awaited her on the table. With Shea unreachable and Whiskey most likely in the city already, it was very quiet, almost unnerving.

She sat down, planning on eating quickly. The honey was slightly warm. Whoever had brought the food had done so recently. She spread a spoonful on the thick, fluffy bread and lifted it to her mouth.

A knock sounded on the door. She put the food down and hurried to see who it was, hoping it was Whiskey. Perhaps she could try again to persuade him.

She turned and pulled the handle to reveal an elven woman standing outside. Her back was to her, and she couldn’t see her face. Her hands were clasped together behind her.

“Hello,” Rain said, wondering if the elf hadn’t heard the door open.

“Hello, miss.” Her tone of voice was somehow familiar. “I’m Shea’s healer. May I come in?” She kept her back to Rain.

There was something odd about her, and it was almost rude how she didn’t turn to face her. She wasn’t about to let her in.

“What do you want? Is something wrong with him?” Rain took a step backwards, uneasy. She held the handle on the inside of the door firmly in her hand, ready to close the door at any moment.

“Of course something is wrong with him.” There was a hint of a snicker. And then Rain realized why she recognized the voice.

The healer turned around and swiftly stepped inside before Rain could stop her. She grabbed the door from Rain and shut it, forcing her to let go of the handle. The healer stood with her hand pressed against the door, facing Rain with a grin on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were completely black.

“I must speak with you,” she said, still smiling wickedly. She stared into Rain’s eyes, but Rain was unaffected by the fear spell.

Rain took a step backwards, and forced words out of her mouth. “Why did you come back? To try to scare me again? It’s not going to work.” Her voice was quiet and meek, not what she had planned.

The next moment, Rain found herself backed against the wall with a dagger point dangerously close to her throat.

“To get you out of my way,” she said with a snarl. “You may have kept your dear Shea from wreaking havoc, but I can enter any body afflicted with the Soulblight. Even if you managed to kill this one, I’ll just find another.” She grinned again. “That would be an interesting predicament. A dead body in your room. Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”

Rain let red-hot energy pulse through her body. She grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the dagger and tried to wrestle it away. Finding the healer was stronger than she realized, she decided to change tactics. She balled up her right fist, gathering as much red energy as she could, and punched her in the gut.

The healer let out a whoosh of air and fell backwards onto the ground. In her surprise, the dagger fell to the ground, and Rain snatched it before she could grab it. She scrambled upright, seemingly not affected by the pain. Rain hadn’t ever hurt a person deliberately, but the knowledge of what Myrna had done to Shea, and so many other people, filled her with hatred.

The elf reached for her again, lunging for the dagger. As Rain wrestled with her, she glanced around the room, looking for another handkerchief. The one under the water pitcher had been replaced. She smiled. “You’re just going to have to find another body.”

She kicked her this time, and knowing she wouldn’t be affected by pain, only by force, she aimed for her legs. She fell to her knees, and as she regained composure, Rain ran to the table and picked up the water pitcher. With her new strength, she threw the whole pitcher at her. Water sprayed everywhere, and the glass of the pitcher shattered against her body. The force made her step back in surprise.

Rain grabbed the piece of cloth that the pitcher had rested on and quickly wound it up. The healer had been cut by the glass a few times through the sleeves of her soaked dress. That apparently didn’t bother her. Rain stepped carefully around the glass shards on the ground, wishing she had thrown something less dangerous for herself.

Rain wondered for a moment about how to keep the healer from grabbing her as she tied the cloth around her eyes. Pausing was the wrong thing to do. She recovered faster than Rain expected, and grabbed her wrist and took her jaw with his other hand.

“You’re a feisty one. Let’s cooperate, now, shall we?” The healer grabbed the dagger back from Rain and put it near her throat once again. Rain didn’t move. The healer used the knife to lift the chain of the aegis up so that the milky-white stone came out from under her collar.

“What’s this?” she said, grinning. “Took someone’s fear charm, did you? It’s only as strong as its chain.”

With her free hand she yanked the aegis roughly from Rain’s neck, breaking the clasp and leaving a burn where the chain had been. Rain then felt a sharp pain in her side and her head was knocked back against the wall.

A muffled thud like a crashing door sounded through her darkened senses. She tried to turn towards the sound, but everything hurt. More sounds came, but each one was quieter than the last, and finally, blackness enveloped her completely.

The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 13

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Unanswered questions ran rampant through Rain’s mind. As the darkness of night pressed in around her, she feared that she would forget the Goddess’ prophecy. She closed her eyes and concentrated, thinking of the first line, which she remembered. She said it aloud, and as soon as she did so, she recalled the second line. As she ran through each line in her head, she remembered the next one. Somehow, the Goddess must have etched the words into her mind so she would never forget them. What a great help that was, she thought irritably. She couldn’t understand a bit of it.

She looked above her into the moonlit sky. It appeared at least half the night had gone by. Did I really spend that much time here? She picked up her lantern and walked to the boat, then placed the lantern in the bottom and sat down. There wasn’t anything else she could do here. She pushed off from shore with the oars, taking one last long look at the summoning circle. As she rowed, she pondered the Goddess’ words. There had to be something she could understand from them, or coming here would have been a waste.

The magic is the cure. It couldn’t mean elemental magic. And when she healed Shea before with innate magic, the mental part of the Soulblight hadn’t disappeared. Perhaps it was worth trying again. Maybe that’s what it meant. She rowed faster at the thought.

She hadn’t asked for this all to happen to her. She sometimes thought she’d be happier back at home, even being an outsider. She was nearly an outsider here anyway, being the only moon elf left with innate powers. Shea was the first man near her age that hadn’t thought she was too strange to get close to. If she would try to heal one person first, it would be him. He could help her, but it wasn’t just that. She realized she really missed him.

Eventually the far shore came into view, and she stopped rowing and let the boat coast, listening for the sounds of the phantoms. She heard nothing.

Quickly, she rowed to shore and pulled the boat out of the water. Scanning the darkness with her lantern, she spotted Pan not too far away. He looked in one piece. She wanted to run and greet him with a hug, but she restrained herself. Shea or the phantoms could still be around any corner, trying to kill her.

She walked towards Pan quietly, scanning the outlying woods in the darkness. The nearby tree, she saw with relief, was the one the boat had been tied to. Her dagger stuck out of its trunk, the blade completely buried in the bark. She pulled it out, and as she walked towards Pan, she promptly stubbed her toe. It was the lantern pole. She hung the lantern on it and propped it against the tree.

Shea and Ahearn weren’t in sight. She approached Pan carefully, patting his neck, making sure he knew it was her. She quietly mounted and walked him to the tree, picking up the lantern. Where would she go now? She had to find Shea. She couldn’t heal him with beasts hunting her, smelling her magic, so she would have to take him somewhere safe. Once she found him. And if he wasn’t still trying to kill her.

She started by searching the perimeter of the lake. It was the easiest and safest place to look. She wasn’t happy about the idea of going back into the woods, where she was more likely to run into a phantom.

Pan stumbled a few times on outlying tree roots outside the lantern light’s reach. The only sound in the eerie place was the clomping of Pan’s hooves on the padded earth. After a while, she grew worried. What would the chances be that Shea stayed near the lake? What if those beasts had done something to him, like the goblins in the illusion?

She reached into the neck of her shirt and pulled out her aegis, clutching it for comfort. She couldn’t search the whole forest, and there was no sign of him yet. What if she had to go on without him? The thought made her throat tighten and she felt tears well up in her eyes. “Shea, come back to me,” she whispered, still holding her aegis tight.

A screech filled the air, followed by a second. The phantoms. But she hadn’t used magic! Had she? She let go of her aegis and grabbed the reins with her free hand. She would have to escape while holding the lantern. She increased Pan’s speed to a fast trot, and circled the lake in a few minutes. She saw the boat again and looked for the path leading away from the lake. She could come back to look for Shea, couldn’t she?

Dark, gnarled, leafless trees sped past her as she left the lake behind. The shrieks grew louder and more frequent behind her. The lantern swung on its pole, and she slid the pole a little lower in her grip and tried to keep it steady. She increased her speed to a canter, hoping it wouldn’t be a mistake.

Something burst out of the trees in front of her and Pan abruptly stopped moving, rearing up on his hind legs. She clung to the saddle, the reins, anything to keep from falling off, until he finally calmed down. She looked through the darkness to see a black horse with a rider. She started to back away, but then recognized his face.

Shea!

Rain hurried Pan forward and saw Shea was holding his own aegis clutched in his fist. His eyes were normal, she saw, but he was staring straight ahead, lost in his cursed trance. She narrowed her eyebrows in worry and curiosity. He had never seen him take out his aegis, save when he was showing it to someone. And how did he find his way to her? She touched her own aegis, which was still hanging loose around her neck, and saw that even in his stupor, Shea tightened his grip on the stone. It apparently connected them. No doubt it was magic.

A gargling scream came from in front of them, and a tall, dark body shaped like an emaciated human burst out of the trees, ten paces away. She stuffed her own aegis back under her shirt in case it was the reason the beasts could sense her. When it let out its cry, she saw long, gleaming sharp teeth. In a moment of desperation, she thrust the lantern pole at Shea, and he took it. Something inside him was still conscious. She took the bow off her back and nocked an arrow. The phantom didn’t seem as ghostly as she thought it might be, so the arrow would probably wound it. Closer, she could see it had no eyes or ears, just a gaping, screaming mouth full of sharp teeth. She aimed at its face and let the arrow fly.

The arrow struck home, and the beast’s shriek was so piercing that when it was done thrashing in pain, her ears still rang loudly. She quickly put her bow back over her shoulder, took the lantern back from Shea, and pushed Pan over the body of the phantom into the trees, starting at a fast trot. She looked behind her and saw Ahearn following without Shea’s guidance and said a silent thank you.

Shrieks continued to come from all directions, and she dearly wanted to plug her ears to ward off the painful sounds. She clutched the swinging lantern in one hand and the reins in the other while dodging low, crooked branches. She didn’t worry about making too much noise, since the phantoms didn’t have ears. After a few minutes, the shrieks died down and finally stopped. She continued hearing their cries but knew it was from her ears getting used to the silence. She kept Pan at a fast pace until even the lingering cries were gone from her ears.

After an hour, the horses’ hooves clomped on the bone-littered path, and Rain knew they were safe. However, she didn’t slow Pan’s pace. The faster they returned to Belmaeron to deliver the information and begin the next part of the journey, the better. She had no idea how many had become afflicted with the Soulblight while they were gone, and she now had at least a clue to finding the cure.

Shea sat upon Ahearn’s back, expressionless. Rain occasionally looked behind her to make sure he was alright. She wished dearly that he could look back into her eyes and smile. The next time they decided to stop and rest, she promised herself she would try to heal him, and she earnestly hoped it would work.

***

In a short while, she walked through an invisible wall of mist, and knew they were approaching Edana’s house. She worried that something might have happened to her, from what Shea had said while being possessed. It was also possible that she was still alive, and was working for the enemy, and would be worth avoiding.

All thoughts she had of bypassing the house dissolved into shock when she got closer to the small cottage. The garden that had been so meticulously tended to had been destroyed, beautifully colored flowers uprooted and strewn about the clearing. Windows had been smashed in by stones, and shingles had been pulled off the roof. At the front of the house, the front door had a ragged hole, about two feet tall, near the bottom. There were small punctures everywhere on the wood, reminding her strangely of a woodpecker’s holes.

Rain slid off Pan’s back and slowly walked to the front door. The thought ran through her mind that this could be a trap, an illusion—but she knew this was still the safe path, the bone path, and she had to know what had happened here. Was Edana still alive? She placed her hand on the doorknob, turned it, and pushed.

The inside was just as destroyed as the outside. Torn book pages, furniture pieces, and broken statues and figurines of faeries and other forest folk littered the floor. She would have thought it was craetons, except for the lack of blood on the front door. Paintings on the wall had the same holes and indents as the front door. Some of them were askew on their hangers, and some of them were in piles of shattered glass on the floor. All the beauty she had seen here before was gone. She felt her hands begin to tremble as she walked through the rooms of the cottage.

She found the dining room, where she had sat with Edana. On the table, in the middle of the pool of spilled tea, were two shattered cups and a broken teapot, the same ones they had used before. This had happened soon after they’d left. Beside the broken chairs on the floor was a body. Rain didn’t look at it directly, or she knew she wouldn’t be able to stomach it. While staring at the shards of china on the table, through her peripheral vision, she could tell the body was broken and mutilated, by the same woodpecker-like weapon. There was no mistaking that it was Edana.

Rain let her eyes finally drift to the body, and she stood in shock, breathless. It all finally made sense.

All around the body were jet black feathers.

Raven feathers.

The evil birds had ripped the flowers out of her garden, thrown stones at her windows, shattered her belongings, and pecked away at everything else. Why? She finally tore her eyes away from the horrific sight. When she remembered to breathe, she noticed a strange stench in the air, and it made her stomach churn. She felt an urge to get far away from here. She hurried over the wreckage to the front door and then broke into a run.

She leaped onto Pan’s back and got him moving at no less than a gallop. She looked back once to make sure Ahearn was following, and then strictly kept her face forward. The bone-littered path continued past the house and she followed it, soon passing through the wall of mist. She focused on the foggy path, trying to forget the horrible images that flashed through her head. If she stopped to think about them…

She felt herself break down, and tears began to stream from her eyes. She slowed Pan to a walk and bent down, hugging his neck as she cried. Why did such a kind woman have to be tortured like that? If she had indeed been working for the Myrna, she had backed out of her mission at the last minute because of Rain. Out of some kindness she’d found in her heart. It didn’t seem fair. Rain thought it was a pity she didn’t have the stomach or the will to give Edana a proper burial.

When all her tears were shed, the weight of sleep pressed upon her. She felt it would be morning soon, and that meant she’d spent almost a full day without sleep. The gnarled, dead trees surrounded them like guardians of the meadow that lay just beyond them. Together with the eerie silence, it was not a comfortable place to sleep, so she decided she’d stop when they left the Dark Wood.

After a while, she felt her eyes droop, and she struggled to keep them open. Her head nodded briefly, and when she managed to open her eyes again, the mist around her was gone, and the familiar trees of Ellwood surrounded her like long lost friends. She sighed with relief.

She found a clearing when the faintest light of morning showed in the sky. When she dismounted, weariness erased her thoughts of hunger, and she decided to do the bare minimum of preparation before she slipped off to sleep. She’d heal Shea when she woke up. He was still staring straight ahead, sitting on Ahearn’s back. He must have been tired, too, but she wasn’t sure how much movement he was capable of in his current state. She walked up to Ahearn and looked at Shea.

“Shea? You can come down now. You can sleep.” She realized if they both slept that they wouldn’t have any way to keep watch, but she was so tired that she brushed the thought away. They were out of the Dark Wood, there hadn’t been any signs of being followed, and she felt they’d be alright until they woke up.

Shea slowly seemed to hear her, and he dismounted. He sat at the base of a thick tree, putting his head back against the trunk. His eyelids fluttered, and she knew he needed sleep just as much as she did.

After unsaddling the horses and feeding them, she unrolled her blanket and wrapped it around her, placing her saddlebags on the ground as a pillow. She curled up on the cool, hard earth and fell asleep within seconds.

***

Rain ran through the forest at full speed. She had to get there before it was too late. Exactly where she had to be, she wasn’t sure. But it was straight ahead through the giant trees.

Finally, before her was the curving white staircase that wound around a tree, and she knew she had made it. When she got to the staircase, she looked up to see Belmaeron in all its glory. Twilight seeped in through the canopy high above, and the little floating lights began winking on in and around the buildings. She smiled in wonder at the platforms, arches, and detailed architecture, and felt she could never get used to such elegance and beauty.

A faint, steady thudding noise sounded from behind her. She whipped around, suddenly alert. Clinking noises joined it, and as it grew louder, she recognized the sound. It sent ripples of fear down her body.

The sounds of marching craetons.

She scrambled up the staircase, thinking she should warn the Council members, or at least a guard. When she got to the first level of the city, she ran straight for the main circular walkway where Rowena’s bakery was. It was closest, and she would know what to do.

A few dwarves and elves milled around, completely unaware of the danger that she knew wasn’t far off. She couldn’t hold in her warning any longer.

She ran up to the nearest dwarf, who had just left the tavern. “Excuse me, sir! Please, warn everyone you can, Craetons are approaching!” she was so anxious that at the end, she was yelling.

The dwarf kept walking, ignoring her.

“Please, sir!” she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder, to get his attention.

Her hand went straight through his arm.

The dwarf’s body changed, darkening, thinning out, until it was a mass of black with two red eyes. A dreamwalker. It had no mouth, but it still felt like it wore a malicious grin. It made no move to approach her; it seemed to want her to watch what was happening to the city.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and she saw a bright flash. A jagged bolt of lightning reached down from the heavens and struck—it hit a tree with such force that the entire length of it burst into flames. A Wingmaster was here, too. As the fire spread, she heard screams and yelling from the guard training areas below them. The craetons had arrived. She had been too late.

***

Rain awoke and sat bolt upright, breathing hard, feeling her heart beat fiercely in her chest. She looked around wildly, searching for smoke and flames coming from the treetops. They had slept until midday, she saw, and nothing was out of the ordinary. No smoke, no craetons. But it had felt so real. And if seeing a dreamwalker meant part of the dream might be real…

If she was going to heal Shea, it had to be quick.

Shea woke when Rain lightly shook his shoulder. He looked up at her in silence, face devoid of emotion. She sat beside him and placed her hand on his forehead. He didn’t move or make a sound. The healing yellow energy filled her when she willed it to, and she imagined the old Shea. Smiling, joking, light in his eyes.

“Feel any different?” she said after a minute.

Shea just stared at her blankly.

Rain tried for a few more minutes, and after a while, it was clear that it wasn’t helping. She didn’t know what else to try. She let her hand drop from his forehead and released her magic reluctantly. Somehow she knew more time wouldn’t work. Her magic wasn’t cut out to heal this way. She pushed away the looming fear that Shea as she knew him was gone and focused on the task ahead.

***

The rest of the week back to Belmaeron, the dream haunted her every night. None of the dreams included the dreamwalker or were as vivid as the first dream, but it grew harder to keep anxious, worried thoughts out of her head.

A few of the dreams included a flock of ravens. Other than the images of a burning city, the memory of what had happened at Edana’s house replayed through her head again and again. She continually looked over her shoulder, wondering if the flock of ravens was still out there, searching for her instead.

They rode during the day and slept at night. A few nights, she was so anxious that she stayed up to watch for any trouble, but exhaustion caught up with her. Shea didn’t show signs of getting better, but he didn’t become possessed either.

Occasionally she wondered what he was thinking. Edana said some part of him knew what was going on, but for some reason he couldn’t express his emotions, or speak. She wondered if he ever wanted to speak but couldn’t, and hoped he wasn’t in pain.

After they found the path that wound around the Hollow, they rode for a few more days and found the turn off for Belmaeron. When they were just a day away, she was so worried that she might not get there in time that she kept traveling into the night, pushing the horses on in a canter.

“Who goes there?” An elvish voice sounded from the trees.

She pulled in the reins, stopping Pan. “Rain,” she said, unsure if the guard would recognize her name. “I’m—”

The elf seemed to materialize from behind a tree and looked at her in surprise. “Sister Rain? They told all the guards to look out for your return. Come with me.” He jogged along the dark path toward the city, and she followed him on horseback, riding Pan at a fast walk.

***

“They’re waiting for you in your rooms on the third level,” the guard said. They stood at the base of one of the winding white staircases on the ground level. Glowing white orbs floated along the staircase railing and filled the city with light up above. Rain held her saddlebags, and Shea held his, mutely. After Rain gave Pan a parting pat on the nose, two stable hands began to lead Pan and Ahearn to the stables.

“Did something happen?” she asked, though she knew by now that her dream hadn’t come true—yet.

The guard began climbing the staircase quickly, and Rain and Shea followed. “All I know is they asked us guards to keep a lookout for you two. Things have been getting tough in the city, with the Soulblight spreading like wildfire and animals attacking the city guards. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He shook his head.

“What kinds of animals?” Rain asked worriedly.

The guard turned to look at her curiously. “Funny you should ask. You don’t see these sorts of things around here very often. So far we’ve had reports of wolves, ravens, and a couple bears.” Rain felt her heartbeat quicken. They had no time to lose.

The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 12

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“You do? You know a cure?” Rain said quietly, feeling hope grow inside of her again. She looked over at Shea. “Can he hear us?”

“I can tell he fights the Soulblight. Something deep inside him is trying to hear us. That is the part of him I will try to communicate with. It will be difficult to cure, as he is so far along. And I will need something from you. Please, tell me why you have come to the Dark Wood.”

Rain hesitated. She looked around the room at the furnishings and decorations once more. Edana seemed like a kind soul, and she would be grateful to anyone who knew how to help Shea.

“We are here to visit Lake Dolmeria,” she said, deciding she didn’t have to say anything else.

“Her waters have been still for a hundred years. How do you expect to summon the Goddess without innate magic?”

Edana’s question took her by surprise, but didn’t acknowledge that fact. “You know about the Goddess?”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “She was honored by the moon elves.”

Rain looked into her eyes and wondered if she already knew the whole story. “No, I do not yet know how to summon her. But I am hoping I will be able to find out once I’m there.”

“You have a lot of nerve,” The old woman said with a small smile. “Just getting there will be difficult. You’ll have to continue following the bone path, but it doesn’t continue the whole way to the lake. There’s an unsafe portion of the forest you’ll have to travel through.”

“What—who—are the bones from?” Rain asked to change the subject, and then wondered if she would regret asking.

“I don’t know,” she said, but Rain wondered if she knew more than she told. “I do know that the phantoms don’t go near them, and they keep away the illusory powers of the rest of the Dark Wood.”

“Phantoms?”  Rain remembered what Aeraldor had said about dark spirits that could sense magic, and had a feeling these were the same ones.

“Yes. Dark spirits roam the forest outside of the bone path. They have inhabited this place since the moon elves’ disappearance.” Her voice grew quiet. “They cannot see or hear. They can only sense magic. They feed on it. Mainly the residual magic of the moon elves. But they cannot leave the Dark Wood.”

Rain wondered if there was any magic left after all these years. Perhaps the phantoms were hungry, then. The thought made her shudder. “You know the way to the Lake, then?” Edana nodded. “You are doing so much for us, is there anything I can do for you?”

Edana’s face grew mournful. “I would like my years of waiting for my love to not be in vain.” She looked into Rain’s eyes. “Do not think me weak—I have overcome my sadness, for the most part.” She sipped her tea and then gazed deeper into Rain’s eyes. “Can you bring back the moon elves?”

Rain could only stare. How did she know all of their plans already? But she nodded, feeling like she should continue the charade. “I will try my best, Edana.”

“Summoning the Goddess will be all but impossible without innate moon elf magic. Yet you seem so sure you can do it.”

Rain paused, the question catching her off guard. She realized Edana hadn’t recognized her as a moon elf.

The old woman sipped her tea, her eyes calm. “What do you plan on doing when you get there? How will you know what to do?” she asked, sounding like a mother scolding her child.

“I… I don’t know. I could try feeling out my memory like I did to find our way into the Wood.”

“Memory?” Edana scoffed. “Is that how you think you got here? The only way into the Dark Wood is by accident. By chance.”

Then why did Aeraldor make it sound like the map would help them?

“It didn’t feel like an accident,” Rain said. “It strangely felt like… coming home. It’s like I’ve been here before, yet I don’t remember being here in what I can remember of my life. My only memories are of my home across the Fangs in Willshire.”

“You weren’t raised in Ellwood?”

Rain frowned. “No, I was raised across the fangs. By foster parents.”

Edana stared at her. Her hands visibly began shaking, and she wasn’t doing anything to hide it. “Your red hair… Oh dear, oh dear, what have I done? It’s been so long, I can’t even recognize one when I see one… You do have the magic, don’t you?” She stood up so fast she bumped the table, sloshing a bit of her tea out of its cup. “You have to go. Now. It is not safe here.”

“What? I thought you said it was.” Rain felt her stomach tie up in knots. “What’s wrong?”

“Get your horses ready, I will pack food for you for your journey home.” She turned and hurriedly went into the kitchen and started rummaging through her cupboards.

“I have to go to Lake Dolmeria.” Rain wondered if it had been a good idea after all to have tea with this woman. She seemed crazy. “Can you at least tell me what you know about the path there? You said there was an area that wasn’t safe.”

Edana stopped and turned to her, whispering as if people might be listening in. “You really should just go home. But, if you must…” she paused. “The only way is through the dwelling-place of the phantoms, where there are no illusions, but the path is not safe. Follow the bones until they end, and continue straight along the path. After a good while, you will find Lake Dolmeria. But if you use any kind of magic, even through memory, they will find you.” Her voice returned to normal. “Now, go get your horses ready. Both of them—Shea must go, too.”

“But I need your help to cure him!”

“I do not think what I had in mind would work, and he is much safer on the move than here.”

“We should try it. I would try anything. I have no idea how to help him.” Rain felt the tiny bit of hope left in her drain away. What had brought about this drastic change in Edana’s mood? Did it really matter that much that she was a moon elf?

Edana continued to gather food in her kitchen and Rain felt anger build inside her. “You said you would help,” Rain said firmly but quietly, still trying to be polite.

“I am sorry—” she put the last of the food in the bag she was preparing “—I am of no further help to you.” She frowned at Rain. “Are you going to just stand there? Well, then, I’ll get the horses myself. I’m in trouble either way,” she mumbled. Then she turned and hurried out the front door to the stables.

Rain turned to Shea, whom she knew at some level saw what was happening around him. After being unusually quiet during her conversation with Edana, he now looked to her and shrugged. “I didn’t think she’d be of much help anyway.” He stood up and stiffly followed Edana to the stable, his face emotionless.

***

After loading up the horses in the darkening sky, Edana gave Shea a lit lantern hung on the end of an iron pole to help guide them and then said a quick and awkward goodbye. She hurried past her beautiful garden, went inside, and shut the door behind her.

With Shea next to her lighting the way in the darkness, Rain led them past the ring of pine trees to the distorted ones beyond, and they found themselves back on the bone path. Rain felt a wall of mist and looked behind her. Edana’s house had disappeared again, the path continuing on behind them. It was growing dark, and she was glad for the lantern.

After about an hour, Rain noticed the sound of the horses’ hooves on bones had stopped. Their surroundings didn’t look any different, but the bones were definitely gone, and she looked worriedly into the dark trees surrounding them. If she didn’t use magic, she would be alright. She hoped.

***

Another hour on horseback passed in silence. It reminded Rain of the first night she met Shea, when he guided her to Fairfield. This time, she was the one guiding him, and his presence was no longer reassuring.

Pan stopped his fast walk unexpectedly, and did not move when she told him to. She looked to the ground in front of him and her heart leaped—she saw the edge of a pool of water. She nudged Pan closer to Ahearn and she took the poled lantern from Shea. Taking the light and pointing it at the water’s edge, she saw it was not just a small pool, but an enormous lake. They had reached Lake Dolmeria.

“Now what?” Shea asked absently.

“We find the boat Rowena mentioned.”

They walked slowly around the lake, Rain holding the lantern out as far as she could. Finally, they saw a dark shape on the water. They neared it and found it was a small boat floating at the water’s edge, the front end tied to a nearby tree.

Rain dismounted to inspect the boat, keeping her bow and quiver secure on her back. She didn’t want to be without protection in these woods, though even if she had her magic she wouldn’t know how to use it in a fight.

She took the lantern off its hook at the end of the pole and left the pole on the ground by the tree. She held the lantern out as she approached the boat, which was quite clean. Creeping closer, she noticed the rope appeared to be freshly tied. The boat was even clean on the inside, and she didn’t see any sign of spiders or other bugs. Either it had somehow been here for a hundred years without showing any age, or someone had put it here for her.

“She is watching, you know.” Shea’s voice was slow and menacing. Rain stood straight up in surprise, too afraid to turn around and face him.

“What—what do you mean?” her heart began pounding in her chest. This was nothing like his usual negative remarks. The voice that came from him did not seem like his own. It was too malicious.

“Your every move is being watched. You aren’t safe from her. Anywhere.” She finally turned around. He sat atop Ahearn, his smile going no further than his lips. His eyes were darker than before; so dark that even the whites of his eyes were deep black. They even stood out from the darkness of the night. Just like the wolf’s eyes.

Shea grasped the sword in his sheath.

Grateful again for her aegis, she started backing away from him. She then realized Damien, or whoever possessed him, would now know that she could somehow resist the fear spell, but it didn’t matter. They probably suspected it before, when Damien encountered her in the woods.

“You’re a tricky one,” Damien said through Shea’s voice. “Even managed to wrap yourself around Edana’s heart. No matter. She was weak anyway.”

“What did you do to her?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He continued his sadistic grinning, and the ring of his sword coming free reverberated over the lake.

Rain slowly set her lantern on the ground. She reached behind her, took the bow off her back, and nocked an arrow. What was she going to do with it? She couldn’t kill him, or his horse. She glanced behind her and saw the boat.

She turned back to Shea and drew back the arrow, straining to pull it to its full draw, hoping to trick Damien into thinking she might actually kill Shea, and backed further away.

Too late she realized she had used magic to draw the string.

She slowly let the string down, but still pointed it at Shea. The red energy in her hands tingled, and she tried to release it. It draws the creatures to you like a strong scent.

Shea hadn’t moved closer, but she knew he would be able to push his horse forward and cut her in two at any moment.

Rain turned her head to face the boat. She needed the lantern, and to untie the rope holding the boat to the tree, both of which she couldn’t do if she were pointing an arrow.

Filled with intense urgency, she put the arrow back in her quiver. She tossed the bow into the boat, grabbed the lantern, and turned to untie the boat from the tree. Shea laughed menacingly under his breath and pushed his horse forward, towards her.

His sword was suddenly in front of her face, threatening. She backed away, toward the boat. But it was still tied to the tree! How would she escape? Then an idea came, a faint glimmer of hope. She still held the lantern, so with her other hand she slowly moved to grab her dagger from her belt. The sword tip was unnervingly close to her throat. She continued backing away, and Shea moved his horse forward to match her steps.

With a burst of strength that she knew could only be from her lingering magic, she threw the dagger at the rope that held the boat to the tree. It sliced through the rope right next to the knot. But her hands glowed red. She was a sure target for the phantoms.

The next second, she ran out of ground behind her.

She fell backward into the boat. The force pushed the boat away from the shore, just as Shea lunged forward to attack her. He lost his balance and fell off Ahearn into the water, making a loud splash in the eerily quiet woods. Circular ripples drifted out from where he had landed.

Rain scrambled into a sitting position and picked up the two oars that sat at the bottom of the small craft. As she began rowing away, she saw Shea heave himself out of the water. He stood up, dripping wet in the dark, his black eyes two voids in the night, staring at her. She reached the point where the dim light from her lantern could not touch the shore, and his face faded from view. She heard his menacing voice once again.

“You may have escaped her now, but she will be waiting.”

A gargling shriek came from the dead forest around the lake, and she paddled harder in fear. After a moment, she heard another and another, and then it seemed to come from every direction around her. The phantoms. She couldn’t see anything past the lantern’s small ring of light, and wondered if the phantoms could travel over water. She had managed to stop the flow of energy into her hands, but the phantoms surely knew she was there. Would Shea be safe from them, surely filled with spirit magic from the possession? She seriously considered going back for him, but realized he’d probably kill her the minute she got out of the boat.

The awful noise continued, but was farther away after a few minutes of rowing. She swallowed, relieved. They apparently didn’t like water. She slowed her rowing pace to something she could maintain.

The lake was large and she couldn’t see far enough to know that she was going in the right direction to get to the center. However, she continued rowing straight behind her, and hoped she would eventually find the summoning circle, whatever it might look like.

***

After a few minutes, the noise died down and all was quiet except for her oars in the water. She felt quite alone. She hoped Pan was safe, and that the phantoms didn’t eat spirit magic.

Soon, he felt her boat run aground and she touched shore with her oars.

When she stepped out of the small boat, she put her bow back over her shoulder and picked up the lantern. She was grateful it had stayed lit through the whole ordeal. She dragged the boat onto shore and then turned to see where she had ended up.

She stood on a small grassy island that was fairly circular. The only decorations were six short pillars that stood evenly spaced in a circle. She walked forward and held out her lantern to inspect one. Made of stone, it was rectangular and about four feet high. On its front side was a carving of a simple sword, outlined in red. On the square surface at the top was a hand-shaped imprint.

Before touching it, she went around to the other stone pillars to see if they were the same. Every second one had a hand imprint and different carvings on the front; the other three were undecorated stone. One pillar carving was a sun, in yellow, and the other showed a blue shield.

Rain went back to the pillar with the sword carving and studied it harder. She recalled that she needed her magic to summon the Goddess. She tested using red energy, feeling the strength of it flow through her and light up her hands, making them tingle with warmth. She decided to try putting her hand on the hand imprint on top of the pillar—it was the only thing she thought of to try. The sword carving was red, so she guessed it symbolized strength, and she felt she had the right pillar. She reached forward with her free hand and placed it, still glowing red, on the hand imprint, not knowing exactly what would happen.

A faint, high pitched hum sounded through the air, and as she kept her hand on the pillar, the carving began to glow. Red light shown through and illuminated the sword carving. She slowly took her hand off the pillar, but the light and sound didn’t go away.

Excited, she hurried to the yellow carved pillar and thought of how she had healed Shea. She called on that same feeling, healing, growth, like the carving of the sun. When her hands glowed yellow, she placed one on top of the pillar.

The pillar’s carving matched her hand’s yellow glow. A slightly lower-pitched sound reverberated around her, harmonizing with the higher one from the red pillar. She took her hand off the pillar and let the light leave her hands.

Eager to see the entire circle lit up, she grabbed her lantern and moved to the third carved pillar. A shield could mean protection, she thought. Eyes open this time, she tried calling up feelings of being protected and safe. But that wasn’t quite it. Her hands didn’t show any signs of blue light. She brought the lantern closer to the carving. There was an unfamiliar coat of arms decorating the shield. It was cut in four equal parts with two intersecting perpendicular lines. Two shorter lines intersected in the center with the other two, creating a star-like pattern.

A coat of arms meant the symbol of a family, or an army, or a nation. It signified a group, held together by loyalty.

Loyalty.

She pictured the people of the Council in her mind, figuring it would help. She felt her loyalty to those people, to the many people of Belmaeron and the whole of Ellwood. She let herself bathe in the feeling of doing good, trusting them, protecting them. Faint blue light swirled and twisted around her fingers. She stood up, turned back to the pillar, and placed her hand on the imprint.

A low hum came from the stone, and the designs lit up with a blue color. She removed her hand and let the feelings pass.

Two tendrils of red light shot out of the red pillar, to the smaller pillars on either side of it. The yellow and blue pillar did the same, and the lights mixed when they touched the pillars in-between, creating orange, green, and then purple.

The sounds of the pillars blended together and created a beautiful resonance, something strange but familiar. The lights seemed to grow brighter, and after a few moments they were so bright they turned white. The three main pillars had tendrils of light shoot upwards out of them. They met in the center, high above the island. A shape seemed to form out of these three beams of light. It grew larger, and descended to stand in the center of the circle of light.

Rain stepped back. The white shape dimmed slightly and formed into the shape of a woman. Her pale face was framed by long white hair. Her skin glowed, emphasizing her ageless beauty. She wore a white velvet dress not unlike the one Rain wore at the Council meeting, but the collar and cuffs were embroidered with sparkling silver thread and the whole thing seemed to shimmer in the white light of the circle.

The Goddess opened her eyes and smiled at her. A warmth and beauty unsurpassed by anything she had ever felt filled her body, and she kneeled, feeling completely unworthy of her glorious presence. She bowed her head to the ground in reverence, feeling it was the right thing to do.

“Sister, please stand. Do not feel unworthy.” Rain looked up and saw she still smiled. The Goddess bent her knees and held out a hand.

She took her hand, feeling it would be rude not to do so, and the warm feeling she had felt was magnified. After she stood, the Goddess released her hand and the feeling lessened a bit.

“I want to thank you, Sister, for my summon.” She put her palms together in front of her and bowed slightly.

Rain did the same, but bowed deeper. “Thank you for being here.” She was surprised at the title, for she still felt she did not deserve it.

“You certainly do deserve it. With power as great as yours, anything less would be disrespectful.”

Rain stared in surprise. “You can hear my thoughts?”

“Certainly. Now, Sister, what is your name, so that I may use it? I can see you are still getting used to your true title.”

“Rain, Goddess… your highness…ah…” She realized she had forgotten to say the Goddess’ title in return when she spoke before.

“My lady will do, dear Rain,” she said kindly. She looked out above Rain’s head, scanning the far shore. Sadness filled her features, and the happiness Rain had felt emanating from her turned to deep sorrow. “It has been a long time. Such a very long time. My people are so far away.” She looked back at Rain. “This land is cursed. You have summoned me at a critical time, Rain.”

Rain ran through in her mind the things King Arthain had told her to ask the Goddess. “There have been raids by craetons in Graemar, where the humans dwell, and we do not know why, and would like any insight you might have. And, my lady, we would like to know if there is a cure to the Soulblight. The elemental wizards and witches can only do so much, and I fear for my friend, who has contracted it himself. His mind is filled with shadows.” She almost asked about where the moon elves were, but felt it would be too much to ask for at once.

“I do not know much, for my power has waned these many years, but I will try to answer your questions, including those unasked.” The Goddess smiled knowingly, and closed her eyes. She seemed to concentrate, and then began to speak, the words reverberating as if said from a far distance.

“When the great blight has crossed the land,
One Sister holds the key.
She must open the Hollow,
To set those like her free.

“The Sister must be wary,
For the magic of spirits holds great power.
It triumphs over the elements,
But inner magic it cannot devour. 

“The answer is buried deep inside,
The magic is the cure.
If she gains the trust of those like her,
Only then will the cursed endure.”

 The Goddess opened her eyes and came out of her trance, and Rain stared wide-eyed at her, all manners forgotten.

“What do you mean, ‘open’ the Hollow? What does all that mean?”

“I’m sorry, but I must go now, dear one. There are things that must be done in your world, and you mustn’t waste time. Do what your heart tells you, and don’t doubt your instincts.”

It all happened too fast, before she could tell her to wait. Her glowing presence seemed to grow brighter. In a blinding flash, she became three thick beams of white light. Each beam traveled in a straight line to the red, yellow, and blue pillars, and the humming of the rectangular stones faded and then was gone. The multicolored glow of the pillars dimmed and then winked out, leaving her in total darkness except for the lantern that still glowed at her feet.

Writing Prompt: Cyberpunk Coffee Shop

coffee_in_rain_by_kirokaze-d98qb8zPrompt (Image): Cyberpunk coffee shop in the rain

Link to original post on /r/WritingPrompts

Sam took a sip, tasting the bitter coffee, willing the warmth to calm her nerves. The window in front of her looked out on a sidewalk filled with people dodging raindrops. On the road beyond, cars sped past, windshield wipers on full power.

She chose this spot because it was quiet and low-key. Not too much noise. Coffee was coffee. No one asked for frilly drinks full of sugar and milk.

Unfortunately, the coffee wasn’t exactly helping. She had never before agreed to meet someone she’d met over Tor in person, but it was necessary. Normally she’d be doing standard government contracts. During a recent job, she’d found information that chilled her to the bone. She felt compelled to figure out what was going on, but she needed help.

This man she was to meet, who went by Spyder on the dark0de forums, had a reputation for being one of the best. He wanted something valuable in return for his services. She had already installed a backdoor into a Chinese data center for another job, so she encrypted the login information and sent it to him. For him to decrypt the information, he needed access to the secret key she’d created for the job. She had it in her pocket on a piece of paper, encrypted with Spyder’s PGP public key. Only he could decrypt it.

Her coffee cup sat empty in front of her, and she was now both nervous and jittery. She pulled out the only thing that would truly calm her — her pocket knife. She spun it around discreetly under her chair, the way her father had taught her. The weight was familiar and comforting.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she spun around, knife hidden but ready to use. A man with dark hair stood before her, carrying a green military-style backpack.

“Coffee in the rain,” he said. It was the code phrase she’d included in a message to him, to prove to her it was him.

“Yeah, it’s ugly out there,” she responded. It was the phrase he’d given her. “Nice to meet you, Spyder.”

“Same to you, Raven.”

She dug around in her pocket for the piece of paper, and handed it to him. He took it, looked it over, stuffed it in his own pocket, and sat down in front of her. The rain poured down outside in the window behind him. The neon sign from the coffee shop reflected in his face, turning it slightly orange.

“Now, what is it you want help with? Can we talk here?”

“It’s secluded enough, yes. I’ve… been doing some government contracting, and found something troubling. I want help discovering what’s really going on.”

“What is it?”

She leaned in and spoke softly. “I discovered some encrypted email communication between Google and some high-ranking government officials. Our government’s being blackmailed for power. All that data we trust them with… our e-mails, browser history, location history, text messages… they’re using it for their own means. The government started PRISM to counter Google’s effort. A war has just begun, and we are all pawns.”

“That’s a serious accusation if you’re speaking the truth.”

“I can send you proof. It’s real. I need to get to the bottom of this, without alerting anyone I work for. I don’t want Google to find out I discovered this.”

He looked at her silently for nearly a solid minute, appearing to think. She held her breath, suddenly scared he wouldn’t follow through.

Finally, he nodded. “Send me the information and I’ll send out some feelers to people I know that could help you.”

Relief washed over her, calming her enough to slip the knife she still held in her hand back into her pocket.

“Thank you.”

“Keep in touch.” He stood up and left abruptly, apparently not one for small talk.

Sam relaxed into her chair and stared into the rain again, watching people pass. It was starting to get dark now, and the crowd on the street was thinning. Hoods and umbrellas obscured peoples’ faces like ghosts. She’d been feeling so alone lately. This information had been hanging over her head for weeks now, and she finally was able to not only make progress, but share the emotional load. The small triumph made her smile.

She stood up and left the café, pulling up her hood to shield herself from the rain, becoming another ghost on the street.

The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 11

The Last Moon Elf - Map of WorldLink to the full-sized map

Link to Chapter 1 – Previous Chapter – Next Chapter


“It’s been three days since you decided to find the Dark Wood by yourself,” Shea complained as they set off from their night’s rest. “Aeraldor said it was a week’s journey, and now it has been a week since we left Belmaeron and we haven’t found the lake.”

“We lost the map! Don’t expect us to get there when we had planned.”

Rain had grown increasingly worried about Shea’s new personality. Aeraldor’s description of the Soublight’s symptoms kept running through her head. Shea was constantly complaining, sometimes throwing in an insult to her and her “memory.” She once tried to ask him about it, to see if he thought it was the Soublight, but he refused to recognize that he had become rude and pessimistic, eventually ignoring her questions. She thought about trying to heal it, but it seemed much more complicated to heal the mind than the body. If they ever managed to get to Lake Dolmeria, she’d see if the goddess knew what had happened to Shea. The faint hope of it helped her deal with his annoying presence. Whatever attraction she had felt for him had turned to pity, or even despair. He had been a great traveling companion before he had grown strangely negative. She missed the old Shea.

The clouds had not gone away, and though it had not rained, the clouds seemed to be growing thicker as they progressed. Her memory seemed to be getting stronger, and she felt like they were very close to the Dark Wood.

The trees around them had massive trunks, looking similar to the ones in Belmaeron. They had nearly all been the same, she thought, during their whole journey from the city. She was almost tired of their monotony, but part of her was still awed by their beauty.

Abruptly, she saw a tree that was so different she had to stop and stare.

Its gnarled branches twisted in every angle and were completely bare, as if it was the heart of winter. The trunk was still fairly wide, but it was much shorter than the other trees around them. Something about it made her shiver.

Further ahead, more of these strange trees were interspersed with the other trees. She started Pan walking again and noticed a fog settling, as if the clouds had grown so heavy they stretched to the ground. Soon, she could not distinguish the fog from the cloudy sky above.

Turning to look behind her, she nearly jumped in her saddle in shock. The fog had crept behind them and the way they had come was completely obscured. They were surrounded by the dead-looking, gnarled trees, with none of the familiar ones to be seen.

“This must be the Dark Wood,” she mused to herself out loud as Pan cautiously moved forward in the fog.

“Creepy place,” Shea said from behind her.

“How will we know where the safe path is?” she wondered aloud.

“We won’t.” He looked straight ahead, expressionless.

She gave him a sidelong look and then sighed. “I guess I’ll keep feeling out this old memory of mine.” She squeezed Pan’s sides, making him move at a fast walk. The fog seeped in through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and pulled up her hood, but it wasn’t enough.

Their surroundings were barren. The forest floor was littered with browning, dead leaves. The trees were unnaturally bare of leaves or needles, and there was no sound other than the horses’ hooves. The horses’ hooves made a strange clomping noise that sounded like they were stepping on something harder than just leaves.

Next to her in the fog, Shea leaned over in his saddle to examine the ground. “Look there. What are those strange white sticks? They were obscured by the fog a few moments ago…” He shot upright in his saddle with a horror-stricken face, and looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Bones.”

Thinking his assumption part of his new pessimistic outlook on life, she dismissed the idea. But then, out of curiosity, she bent over a bit to make sure and the same look of revulsion cross her face. Knobbed white ends stuck out from between the leaves on the ground, and were spread out as far as she could see in the thick fog. She could not see anything that looked like a skull, and that strange thought helped her stay calm. “How can there be this many?”

“Maybe it means we’ll be dead soon, too.”

“Stop thinking like that. The bones seem to have been here for a long while. We can get through this,” she said, but worry creased her forehead.

They continued through the endless silence, only broken by the sound of walking on bones. The eeriness set Rain’s nerves on edge, and she jumped whenever the horse’s step broke something. After what felt like a few hours, she guessed it was getting to be late afternoon.

“Let’s rest the horses for a bit,” she said, stopping Pan and dismounting. She started to get out a little food for all of them. Their supply was getting lower. The apples and cheese were gone, and they only had the dried meat and some hard bread left. She took out the bag of oats and began to feed the horses.

“What’s the use? They’ll probably die anyway in this place.” He dismounted as well, but just stood there, staring into the fog blankly.

She ignored his comment for what felt like the hundredth time, because she knew no matter how much she told him to not worry, he would. She focused on the task at hand to keep herself from thinking about the Soublight. After the horses ate, she took out strips of meat for her and Shea. She stood facing away from him, stretching her legs and chewing on the meat, and decided not to mention the dwindling supplies.

“Hey, over there the ground looks different.” Shea’s voice was faint, the fog muffling his sound. She turned to look for him and found he was not by his horse.

“Shea! Where are you?” she walked through the fog, looking for any sign of him. She grew worried when she didn’t hear an immediate response.

“Here,” he said, faintly. Finally, about twenty paces from where the horses were, she saw his dark cloak.

She went closer and stood next to him. “What is it?”

He didn’t need to answer. Just two feet away, the ground turned abruptly from the brown, dead forest floor to bright green healthy grass. In fact, it appeared to be a meadow. The fog dissipated at the line where the grass began to grow. She could almost see the sun peeking in through the clouds.

“Amazing,” she breathed. It was so beautiful, she felt like running out and rolling in the grass.

“Maybe it’s the safe path! Let’s see where it goes.” He stepped out with one foot, just inches away from the strange dividing line.

She grabbed his muscled arm. “Wait.” She felt where her memory seemed to pull her and noticed the pull was weaker here than where the horses were. The more she gazed at the meadow, the more she felt there was something wrong. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if it’s a trick?” She felt like the pessimist now.

He pulled roughly away from her grip, and she was hurt inside yet again, no matter how much she told herself he was not his normal self. “It’s worth a try. Your way isn’t getting us anywhere.” He marched into the meadow.

The moment his foot touched the grass, he completely disappeared. “Shea!” she yelled, feeling frantic. “Where are you?” She nearly stepped in behind him, but then pulled her foot back. What good would it do to follow him blindly, if it was the wrong way to go?

She walked back to the horses and took both of their reins in her hand, leading them to where Shea disappeared. Either he had found the safe path, she decided, or she was on the safe path and he was tricked. The meadow did look inviting, no matter the worry in her head that told her it felt wrong. And she couldn’t just leave him wherever he had disappeared to. She took a tentative step into the vibrant green grass.

***

It felt like stepping through a wall of thick mist, cool and sharp. The meadow she was expecting changed to a forest, much like the one she lived by at home: smaller trees, thick undergrowth, and bright sunshine. The wall of mist left a chill in her body after she stepped through, pulling the horses behind her. The sunshine surprised her the most, but the uneasy feeling she felt before was stronger now. She pulled off her hood and looked behind her to see if she could go back. The wall of mist was gone. She was surrounded by the familiar trees, much like she had been surrounded by the gnarled trees when they left the giant trees of Ellwood behind.

“Shea?” she called, searching for him as far as she could see from the spot where she stood. She stayed silent for a moment, listening for any movement. She heard and saw nothing. Since searching for him was her only recourse, now, she mounted Pan and started him walking carefully through the thick mass of bushes, small trees and ferns, interspersed with pine and maple trees. It was bothersome to try to lead Ahearn at the same time, she let go of his reins to see if he would follow. He did follow, and, relieved, she continued on through the forest.

Some of the skinny trees and branches were low enough that she had to duck. She took out her dagger, not used much until now, and slashed through some of the more stubborn plants

“Shea! Where are you?”

They came upon a clearing and she slid her dagger back into its sheath. Pan stopped moving, though she hadn’t given him the order. She urged him further into the clearing, but for some reason he wouldn’t move.

“Come on, Pan! There’s nothing here to stop you.” She squeezed his sides a little harder, to no avail. He whinnied quietly, seeming to be on edge. She got off his back and walked into the circle of trees, wondering what could be keeping him from moving.

She heard a rustling in the ferns surrounding the clearing, and she immediately put her hand back on her dagger’s hilt, ready to pull it out. There was a strange sound, like something being dragged across the forest floor.

The first thing she noticed was their ugly ears. They were pointed at the end, but wider and longer than hers. Their heads emerged, and then their short, greenish-brown colored bodies, about three feet high. Two of them came out dragging something, their backs to her.

In unison, they stopped moving and turned their heads around to look at her. They both grinned, flashing misshapen, sharp teeth and muddy brown eyes. Their noses were different shapes; one had a long, pointed nose and the other’s was so short it was almost nonexistent. Goblins, she thought, thinking back to her childhood books.

“Hello there,” the long-nosed one said in a nasally, high-pitched voice. She found it incredibly annoying.

“We’ve got something for you,” the other said, widening his mischievous grin.

The first two were holding the feet of a person. They continued pulling something out of the bushes, and more of their little heads appeared. She counted ten in all. When the whole group of ugly green goblins was visible in the clearing, she gasped.

They were dragging Shea.

She could only stare in terror.

According to her books, goblins were the worst sort of faerie, even worse than the mischievous household brownie. If you were nice to a brownie, they would be helpful. But goblins would do unimaginable things to a person—torture, some called it, though she had always imagined it as too horrible for words—just for fun. It was in their nature. She noticed they were wearing different sorts of red pieces of clothing, from pants to smocks to bandanas. They loved the color red.

Shea’s body looked in one piece, but his clothing had large rips with gashes beneath them, and dried blood matted his hair. She could hardly recognize him, even though they held him with his face up. The aegis, the one like hers, was lying on top of his torn shirt.

“Release him!” she yelled angrily. She was so much in shock she couldn’t think straight, but she tried her best to think back to how her books had said to deal with goblins.

They set him down on the ground before her. “As you like,” the long-nosed one said, and all the goblins turned to grin at her. Out of his red sash he pulled a simple dagger. He walked around the other goblins and stood by Shea’s shoulder. Still looking at her and grinning wickedly, he reached out over Shea’s chest and held the knife over his heart, point down.

They had twisted her words. “No!” Rain yelled. “Stop!”

The goblin did not stop. He raised the knife in the air and before it could make contact with Shea’s skin, Rain shut her eyes forcefully, not believing the scene before her. The sickening sound of a knife in flesh sent a shiver down her spine.

“Don’t believe it.” A voice in her head sounded loud and clear, but it was not her own. It was an older woman’s, and it startled her so much she almost opened her eyes. “Keep your eyes closed. Think of the bone path. The brown leaves, the bare trees, the fog. Imagine yourself there.”

“Who are you?” Rain said aloud, unsure if the voice could hear her. The sounds of goblin laughter rang in her ears.

“Please, do it for your sake. Think of it as a calming exercise. Take a deep breath and imagine yourself on the path.”

Unsure of what to think of this voice, but not wanting to open her eyes to the horror before her and knowing she couldn’t run from it, she decided to do what the voice told her. Even if it existed solely in her mind, thinking of the path was better than being here. She just couldn’t remember how to outwit a goblin, and felt hopeless just standing here.

She took a deep breath and imagined standing on the bone path. She thought of the feeling of the fog around her and dried leaves crunching underfoot. The chattering of the goblins in their glee nearly brought her back to the scene in front of her, but she kept focusing as well as she could.

Her imagined feeling of the fog soon felt so real that she could literally feel the chill around her. The noise of the goblins faded away.

***

“Rain.” It was Shea’s voice, sounding like he stood two feet away.

She jerked her eyes open in surprise. There he was. No cuts or gashes, clothes clean and in one piece without any blood. Around them was the bone path, and she still held the horses’ reins in her hand.

“Shea!” She hugged him in relief, but immediately remembered his sickness. He did not hug back. She pulled away from him and decided he hadn’t said her name in surprise, or relief. It was just acknowledgement. “I thought you were—”

A finger was placed over her lips to stop her from talking, and it was not Shea’s. She realized an old woman stood beside her. Her ears were human, not elven. She wore simple robes of dark green and her wavy hair, dark but graying, flowed over her shoulders, framing her wizened face. The brown in her eyes was so dark they almost appeared black.

“Don’t talk about what you saw.” She lifted her finger from Rain’s lips. “It’s not good to dwell on it, lest you want to see the illusion again.” She smiled briefly and nodded her head. “Good to meet you, I am Edana.”

“Likewise. I’m Rain, and this is Shea.” She returned the nod. “So none of that was real?” Flashes of what she’d seen appeared in her mind, but she brushed them away.

“Correct. The entire Dark Wood is filled with illusions, except this path. The bone path.”

“Were you the voice?” Edana smiled in response. “You helped me out of there.” Rain shook her head, ridding her thoughts of evil goblins and bloody knives. “What is the reality here, then? What does the Dark Wood look like?”

The old woman studied her face for a moment, and then smiled. “You ask good questions.” She began walking away from them as she talked, and they followed. Rain led the horses along behind her. “You don’t want to see the reality of this place. It would bring you great sadness. When Myrna banished the moon elves… one could only wonder if she knew what the consequences would be.”

“You know about the moon elves?” Rain asked.

Edana looked back at her and smiled. “Yes.” Her face saddened and she turned away. “I loved a moon elf, when I was young and foolish.”

Rain turned to Shea to see his reaction, but he was strangely quiet, staring straight ahead as if he wasn’t even listening. He hadn’t said anything but her name since she appeared here in the meadow.

“You loved a moon elf? But that means you’re…” Rain trailed off.

“Yes, I am nearing my one hundred and forty-fifth birthday. I’ve been practicing magic to stay alive, hoping in vain that someday they’d come back and I could be with him again.”

Rain instantly felt pity for this poor old woman, longing for a young lover.

“What are you doing waiting in these woods?” Shea asked, breaking his silence. “I would imagine you are quite alone. Living in illusions isn’t a good way to live.”

Edana stopped and turned around sharply, scrutinizing him. Rain wondered if she knew something was wrong with him. The woman finally continued walking. “Watch your tongue,” she mumbled.

“Where are you taking us?” Rain asked after a few minutes of silence.

“My home. I expect you could use my help, and I could use yours. It is the safest place to talk.”

***

After a while, Edana stopped. “Here,” she said. There was nothing in front of them except more of the same path.

“I don’t see a house,” Shea said irritably. Edana didn’t respond. Instead, she took a step forward. She disappeared just like Shea had when he stepped through to the meadow before. “It’s this trick again, I see.” Shea followed her, and he disappeared again.

Rain cautiously stepped forward and felt her body go through another cool wall of mist. A moment later, they stood before a house. It was a small cottage, surrounded by fruit trees and flowers with a little garden to the side. The house appeared to be within a large clearing, surrounded by a wide circle of pine trees. Beyond the first few rows of pine trees, the foliage turned gnarled and dead, like the bone path.

Edana approached her house and motioned for them to come around to the back, where she had a small stable with two stalls. “I haven’t used these in ever so long, but they are kept clean and in good working order.” Rain and Edana worked to get the horses unsaddled, groomed, and fed. Shea only stood there, staring blankly straight ahead. It felt wrong to her, but Edana didn’t pay attention to him.

Edana closed the doors to the stalls, letting the horses rest after their long journey. Rain hoisted one saddlebag over her shoulder and held one out to Shea. Thankfully, he did not just stand there, but took it from her silently. Edana led them around to the front of the house again, past rows on rows of blossoming flowers and fresh growing vegetables. She opened the front door for them and stood behind it, smiling.

The inside of her house was cozily decorated and quite tidy. Ornate paintings and quilted wall hangings decorated the walls, and small statues of faerie folk hid in the corners and on tables.

“These faerie statues—you have so many!” Rain exclaimed, bending down to look at the depiction of a young pixie sitting atop a spotted toadstool. She placed her saddlebags on the floor here, by the entryway. Shea mutely did the same.

“Oh yes,” she said with a smile. “I like to honor them. They are my helpers. I would not have such a bountiful garden without them.” As Edana led them through her house, Rain saw wooden and metal frogs, dryads, pixies, and other symbols of the faerie world sitting next to vases with bright blooming flowers. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a goblin statue, but when she looked directly at it, realized it was only a pixie. The head and feet weren’t shaped like a goblin’s. But a shiver went through her nonetheless.

They entered her dining area and she told them to sit. The late afternoon sun slanted through the bay window overlooking her garden. “Would you like some tea?”

“I would, thank you,” Rain said, glancing at Shea, who was in the second seat to her left, and realized he wasn’t going to say anything, let alone drink anything. “Just one cup.”

Edana took a quick look at Shea and then looked back to Rain and nodded. She was gone only a minute into her kitchen, and then brought out a hot teapot and two matching flower-patterned cups. “Oh, I’m sorry. Cream or sugar?” she asked before sitting down.

“Yes, please.” Rain said.

“Very good.” She sat diagonally to Rain’s right, placing a tray between them that held a cup of cream and a plate with sugar cubes. She looked at Shea another moment. “What happened to him?” she asked. So she had suspected something.

“He’s been like this for days now, and it’s getting worse. I think it’s this curse that’s been running around Ellwood. I don’t know what to do. I tried to—” She stopped herself before sharing about her magic. If there was one thing she couldn’t do, it was trust strangers. Particularly in the Dark Wood. Followers of Myrna couldn’t know she had magic, and she didn’t know enough about Edana yet. She shook her head instead. “Nothing I do seems to work.”

”Ah, the Soublight. How did it happen?”

She guessed it wouldn’t hurt to mention how he got sick. It was probably a typical way to contract it. “We were attacked by a wolf a few days back, and he was bitten. It had the power to stare into your eyes and keep you from moving.” She didn’t mention that Shea had his aegis. She took a sugar cube and a bit of cream, stirring her tea. It had a slight bitter, tangy aftertaste.

Edana replied while looking at Shea. “I know how to help him.”

 

Writing Prompt: The Long Road

The Long RoadPrompt (Image): The Long Road

Link to original post on /r/WritingPrompts

“Come on!” my sister yelled. “Let’s go!”

“Just a minute!” I yelled back. I stood on the edge of the broken highway, staring into the distance, hand over my brow to shield the glaring sun. The mountains were so beautiful, I couldn’t help but linger. Their blue silhouettes lined the horizon like the edge of the world, with the long road ahead visible for miles and miles. The city wasn’t too far away, I thought. We could probably make it there by sundown if we kept a good pace.

We had only been walking for a few days, but it felt like weeks. Grandma had been ill, and Father had gone to the city for medicine. He hadn’t been back for a month. Then the rains came. I’d never seen them this bad. It started to flood, first our fields, then our house. We kept dry enough in the attic, and scavenged as much food as we could before it all spoiled. My sister and I tried to help Grandma, but she was too weak to survive without the medicine. She passed away just as the flood subsided. We buried her in the backyard. We had started getting used to surviving on our own without Father, but we had no reason to stay at the farm. Our neighbor barely had enough food to survive on his own, and had no way to take us in. So we told him we planned to leave town, in case Father came back and wondered where we were.

As we traveled, we discovered just how bad the flooding had been. Major roads like this one had fallen apart, and no one had been out to fix them. It was like a wasteland. It felt like the end of the world, and we were the only survivors.

I hoped we’d find Father in the city. Our only clue was a shop he told us about, where he said he’d go for the medicine. What had happened to him? Had he gotten hurt? Had he lied to us and abandoned us? I know he’d been grieving ever since mom died, but that was a few years ago now. We both longed to know where he was.

“Sis, come on!” she whined. She started walking back towards me, frowning.

“Alright, I’m coming.” I sat down, dangling my legs over the side of the highway, a good six or seven feet between me and the road below. I braced myself and jumped, landing on my feet safely.

“What were you looking at?” she asked.

“I think we can make it to the city by sundown.” She raised her eyebrows, as if she knew that wasn’t what I was thinking about. I sighed. “And, I miss Father. He would have stood up there, looking at the mountains like that too. Remember when he took us on walks in the forest near the farm, and spent way too long looking at the mountains when we got to the cliffs?”

“Yeah. I miss him too.”

I hugged her, overcome with gratitude that I still had her to hang on to. I felt tears in the corners of my eyes.

She pulled away and looked at me. “It’ll be alright. We’ll get there, we’ll find him.”

I nodded, letting myself believe her words, despite knowing in the back of my mind that they were a lie. A lie she wanted to believe too.

We walked down the road, hand in hand, hoping against hope we’d see Father again.

The Last Moon Elf: Chapter 10

The Last Moon Elf - Map of WorldLink to the full-sized map

Link to Chapter 1 – Previous Chapter – Next Chapter


Shea clicked his tongue and his horse surged ahead. Rain followed, watching him struggle to keep the black horse from cantering. She looked behind and saw Whiskey and Aeraldor disappear behind the thick tree trunks.

They continued silently at a brisk trot, Shea doing his best to keep Ahearn from cantering. The thin undergrowth allowed for easy traveling. The great trees of Ellwood stood around them like pillars holding up the heavens, and birds trilled in the treetops.

Shea’s horse continued to act strangely, and finally Rain had to break the silence.

“Is he frightened or does he just want a good run?” she nudged Pan to go a little faster and catch up to Shea.

“I’ve never seen him like this. He doesn’t get scared easily, but that’s got to be what’s happening.”

Rain looked behind her but saw nothing. “Remember the last time he got scared? Highgate.”

“The wolves, you mean? But there aren’t any following us.” He shook his head. “Let’s just stay alert.”

Night passed uneventfully under the towering trees, people and horses alert and watchful. When they came upon the fork in the road, they took the path to the right as Aeraldor had instructed.

Rain had tried to sleep during the day before they left, to no avail. She had known she needed the energy to stay awake that night, but excitement had kept her restless. She fought the feeling of exhaustion that now threatened to overtake her, but as dawn’s light began seeping between the trees, she was nearly asleep in her saddle.

As she forced her eyes open, she saw Shea looking over at her.

“We can stop if you need to,” he said, slowing his horse to a walk. “It’s nearly morning, anyway, and we shouldn’t travel in daylight.”

“Don’t stop just for me,” she said while trying unsuccessfully to fight back a yawn.

But as soon as they came across a stream, Shea suggested they set up camp beside it in a small clearing. Shea took the packs off the horses to give them a break and let them take a drink from the stream, filling the waterskins as well. Rain found a reasonably flat spot of earth to sleep on and wanted to curl up and fall asleep immediately.

“I can take today’s watch,” Shea said as he pulled food out of a saddlebag and sat down.

“But you need sleep, too.”

“I’m fine. You look tired enough. You should eat something first, though,” he said as she unrolled her blanket.

“As long as you do, too.”

She accepted a freshly baked sweet bun, compliments of Rowena. They both started eating; Rain on her blanket, Shea leaning against a nearby tree.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she said. “Strangely enough, I think I feel safer with you than with some elven guard I don’t know.”

“You don’t exactly know me, either,” he said. His expression was unreadable.

“Perhaps. But I know enough.” She smiled, thinking of the night she met him on the road from Willshire. “When I first saw you, I thought you were some bigot from the city, just trying to impress me.”

Shea’s mouth twitched into a lopsided smile. “Oh, really? Well, I thought you were some foolish country girl, out for a midnight ride without regard to your surroundings.”

“I certainly wasn’t. I was running for my life.”

“What, you want an apology for saving you from that craeton?” His smile widened.

She returned the grin. “Of course not. I already thanked you.”

They were quiet for a minute, surrounded by the sounds of the forest waking up. Rain finished her food and curled up in her blanket.

“Goodnight,” she said quietly, rolling over so her back faced Shea. She shut her eyes, Shea’s tall frame still in her mind.

***

Two eyes, black voids sucking in the light around them, stared at her. They were the menacing, piercing eyes of a predator.

Fear startled her awake, and the vision vanished when she opened her eyes. The fear lingered, though, and she still felt a pair of eyes watching her.

She looked around and saw it was nearly afternoon, sunlight filtering through clouds and treetops. Her right arm was tingly and sore from sleeping at a strange angle. She turned to face the camp and sat up to see Shea’s back to her.

“Shea.”

He turned to face her, looking a little worse for wear. “Good, you’re awake.”

“I think something’s watching us,” she said as she unwrapped herself from her blanket and began rolling it up.

“Why do you say that?”

She thought about telling him about her dream, but didn’t want to worry him further if it was nothing to fret about. “I… just feel uneasy. Let’s be careful.”

Shea started preparing the horses. “Fine with me. We should get moving, anyway.”

When Rain gave Pan some light grooming and a handful of oats, she noticed he was nervous again, but calmed after she began brushing him. Even the horses were still skittish, she realized. Pan did look like he was well rested, and she was glad Shea had thought to take off their saddles and bridles while they slept.

“I can stand watch next time, you don’t need to stay awake for me. You need sleep, too.”

“It’s not a problem. Tomorrow we can switch off, though.” As he brushed his horse, the stallion flicked his dark black tail restlessly.

When they set off at a trot, the forest seemed hushed. Only a couple of birds chirped once in a while and no animals came out in the open. Even the faint breeze didn’t make a sound as it wound its way through the light undergrowth.

“The woods seem unusually quiet,” Rain said to break the silence. She glanced behind her again, looking for whatever was giving her goosebumps. She hadn’t seen a dreamwalker in the vision, but that didn’t mean she should disregard it.

Shea was silent for a moment. “I wonder if it’s the Soulblight. Maybe more animals have been affected than we think.”

“I don’t know… the forest seemed pretty lively a few hours ago.”

Shea glanced behind them. “If it’s not the Soulblight, then maybe we really are being followed.”

Rain quickened Pan’s pace to a fast trot. “Let’s go a bit faster, then. Maybe we can gain some ground.” Shea murmured his agreement and increased his own horse’s speed to catch up with her.

Eventually, the terrain they rode over became rocky and full of roots. The wide trees surrounding them became interspersed with thinner, though still quite thick, fir and pine trees. They slowed their horses to a walk to keep them from tripping.

After turning a corner in the path, Rain heard a faint, deep growl coming from behind them.

“Did you hear that?”

Shea stopped his horse and listened to the woods around them. After a moment, he shook his head. “Nothing unusual.”

“I swear I heard a growl.”

A muffled snarl erupted from the undergrowth behind them. Before either of them could react, a large black wolf appeared, lunging for Shea’s leg. It looked exactly like the ones in Highgate, with eyes like dark voids slicing through the daylight.

Shea yelled in pain and Ahearn reared, but the wolf held on. Shea clung to his frantic horse.

Pan stomped and snorted, making it hard for Rain to control him. As best she could while dealing with her horse, she nocked an arrow and shot the wolf.

The arrow punctured the animal’s flesh at the neck. It cried in pain and briefly released Shea’s leg. Before it could attack again, she shot a second arrow, hitting its muzzle. It fell to the ground, howling and writhing, and after a few moments it went still.

Shea finally calmed Ahearn down and took shuddering breaths. Rain hopped off Pan and hurried to help Shea down from his own horse. She guided him to a fallen log and he took off his left boot, lifting the torn pant leg.

Ghastly cuts from the wolf’s teeth were bleeding freely. Scars from the bite a week earlier were ripped open.

Shea cursed, ripping the end of his pant leg off to staunch the blood. “It’s as if,” he grimaced, “it knew where my weakest spot was. It hurts more than the last time, and not just from the new gashes.”

“It looks horrible,” Rain said as Shea shifted the cloth over the wound and flinched. “Will a simple bandage be enough? Do we need to go back to Belmaeron for the healers?”

He shook his head. “This mission is too important to waste time. It’ll have to do.”

From what Rain knew about wounds, working at an inn, she knew he needed more than a bandage to continue on traveling. They didn’t even have painkilling herbs.

“Let me… try something. Take the cloth off the wound.”

Shea frowned. He kept his hand where it was. “It needs pressure.”

“If I can create a wooden log out of thin air, why couldn’t I try healing you?”

His eyes widened. “No.”

“What? Why? It can’t hurt.”

“How do you know? It hurts like hell already.”

“What’s wrong?” Rain asked, exasperated. “You let the elves heal you.”

“They knew what they were doing. I’m not willing to be a test subject. What if you end up turning my leg into a wooden log?”

“I wouldn’t do that!” she asserted. But Shea stood his ground, only staring at her. “Fine. But don’t complain about the pain.” She went over to Pan to take the bandages out of the saddlebag, and took her time of it.

When she came back with the bandages, Shea still didn’t move his torn pant leg from the wound.

“Come on, at least let me dress the wound. I know how to do that.” She stared him down, and he finally averted his eyes, moving the bloodied cloth away.

Rain worked gingerly, afraid that every touch hurt him. Shea was quiet, refusing to show any pain.

“You’re afraid of my magic,” she said as she finished tying off the bandage. Shea was silent. She shook her head. In a burst of anger, she said, “Would you rather I practice on myself first?” She picked up a sharp rock from the ground, but before she could cut her palm, Shea grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t be an idiot. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

She turned her angry eyes on his. “I’m almost certain I could heal it away in a second.”

“I don’t care,” he said quietly, and they sat there for a moment, looking at each other, Shea firmly holding her wrist as she tried unsuccessfully to bring the rock down on her hand. When Shea finally realized he didn’t have to restrain her anymore, he let her go. She dropped the rock.

Shea cleared his throat nervously and started putting his left boot back on. “We should be on our way.”

Rain nodded her agreement. As she quietly put the remaining bandages away and helped Shea onto his horse, she couldn’t decide if she was more attracted to or frustrated about his gallantry.

***

After a few minutes, they saw a sharp drop looming ahead of them in the late afternoon sun. The path curved to the right before they were led straight off the cliff that led to the Hollow. Thick, dark woods stretched on to the horizon far below them. Shea turned and gave his horse a light kick in the side and he started trotting quickly down the path. It was set about ten or twenty paces from the drop off, and a few of the giant trees grew between the path and the cliff.  Rain urged Pan forward through the trees to follow them.

They traveled along the path through the night, the cliff almost always in view, and made camp when the first light of day shone through the treetops. Rain helped him off Ahearn’s saddle and insisted on taking first watch, making sure to mention to Shea that he was still injured and needed his rest. He didn’t need much persuasion, though, for after changing his wound’s bandage, he ate a few mouthfuls of a sweet bun and a strip of dried meat and soon fell asleep.

Shea tossed and turned through the morning, and so Rain let him sleep through his turn at watch. When she started feeling sleepy, she practiced with her magic, creating small things like flowers so she didn’t waste her energy.

She woke Shea up a bit after noon. “Time to get moving again.”

He groaned and sat up slowly. His face was sweaty, and he looked rather sickly. Before he could protest, Rain kneeled beside him and put her hand to his forehead. The skin was hot.

“Shea, you have a fever.”

He grimaced as he moved his left leg. “The bite hurts like hell.” He rubbed his face, the sweat making his hair stick up. “I could probably remember the herb my mother used for fever, maybe there’s some around here…”

“Shea, we don’t have time to sit here and nurse you back to health. You know that, you said it yourself yesterday.”

He looked at her, and after a moment, realized what she was saying. “No. No, Rain, no magic.” He started to stand up.

“Sit,” Rain said with such forcefulness that she surprised even herself. She stood up and gathered her own blanket, rolling it up to create an extra pillow for Shea. “Lie back.” When he stubbornly stared at her, she said, “You know we have to try this. There’s no guarantee I can even make anything happen, but you simply can’t ride a horse for hours on end in your state, and we don’t have time to find herbs that you knew ten years ago.”

Shea lay down reluctantly, sighing in what could only be exhaustion. She couldn’t imagine that he’d had a restful sleep.

Rain sat beside his leg, the bandage bared to the elements because of the day before, when Shea ripped off the bottom of the pant leg in his haste to stop the bleeding. She silently chided him for not thinking things through.

Shea lifted his head to see what she was doing. “Don’t be nervous,” she said, “just close your eyes and think happy thoughts. It won’t hurt.” Rain wasn’t sure that was true, but didn’t want him protesting any further.

“Fine.” Shea rested his head again and took a deep breath, in and out. “Just don’t give me a wooden leg.” A flicker of a smile crossed his face.

Rain shook her head at his nervous joke and gently rested her palms on the bandage, closing her own eyes. She’d considered how to do this all day, and settled on one thing to try first. She willed the wound beneath her hands to heal, picturing it healed in her mind.

Nothing seemed to happen. Perhaps one of the colors of magic was solely for healing, she thought, and willed herself to be filled with specifically healing energy. After a minute or so, she felt her hands warm and opened her eyes. Yellow tendrils of magic swirled around her hands. Shea sighed and visibly relaxed.

Smiling at her success, she pictured in her mind the wound beneath the bandage. She imagined the muscle weaving back together, the skin fixing itself, the wound gone. The tendrils of magic circled the bandage and seemed to go underneath it, healing the wound.

When she was finished, she moved over to sit by Shea’s head, and put a hand to his forehead again. He opened his eyes. He still felt a bit warm to her touch.

“How do you feel?”

He smiled gratefully. “The pain is gone. I can’t believe it.” She saw a tear escape from his eye and then realized how much pain he really had been holding in.

For good measure, she did the same healing technique on his forehead, this time imagining him without a fever, at a normal temperature. The heat disappeared under her hand, and she released the magic, taking her hand from his face. She realized she felt a bit more tired than she was five minutes ago.

“That’s incredible,” he said. “I could feel the heat leaving my body. The magic of the elves worked quickly, but not that fast.” He sat up, and suddenly hugged her fiercely.

Surprised as she was, it took her a minute, but she put her arms around him and hugged him back.

“I’m sorry,” he said into her hair. “For doubting you.”

“It’s alright,” she said, and pulled out of the hug, smiling at him. “I’m glad it worked.” Her thoughts drifted, and her smile disappeared. “I’m not so sure you should be thanking me yet. If you’re sick from the bite, and the wolf clearly had the Soulblight…” Rain’s thoughts ran wildly through her head. What if he had caught it?

“I feel fine, Rain. You even cured the fever.” He bent to his wound and started unwrapping the bandage. The skin beneath it was completely healed, scars and all.

“Aeraldor mentioned other symptoms,” Rain said. “We don’t know that I healed anything more than your skin and the fever.”

“We’ll watch out for them, then.” He stood up, stretching. “I feel fantastic, in fact.” He grinned his familiar contagious grin, but Rain couldn’t muster more than a weak smile.

***

After they set off at a walk through the forest, Shea asked to see the map, and stopped to study it. Rain waited, gazing at the majestic trees surrounding them. There was a dark shape high in the tree she stood next to, and Rain squinted to try and see it better. A dark beak emerged from the branches, illustrating the silhouette of a bird she knew they should be wary of.

“Shea,” she whispered, “a raven is watching us.”

A loud, hoarse squawk sounded from the tree, and the raven swooped down from its high perch. It seemed to be flying right for her, and she ducked. It flew past her, but Shea shouted and she looked over her shoulder. The raven had snatched the map from his fingers, and shot up into the air. She quickly got out her bow and nocked an arrow, but by the time she aimed, the bird had disappeared over the nearby cliff edge. She slowly let down the string of her bow.

She looked at Shea and they shared a distraught look. “What now?” Shea wondered aloud. He walked his horse closer to the drop off and looked over the edge. “It would be impossible to chase it.”

“Do you know the map well enough for us to go on without it?” she asked.

“I know we should follow this path until a certain point, but it continues around the cliff in a great circle. We have to branch off of it at some point, but I’m not sure I remember the exact path.” He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his dark hair.

“Let’s just keep moving. If seeing a raven means a Wingmaster might be near, I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

Shea nodded in agreement and they started up again, increasing their traveling speed to a fast trot.

***

They made steady progress for the next two days, relying on Shea’s memory and instincts. There had been no sign of more animals controlled by Demonmasters or Wingmasters, and they gradually transitioned to traveling during the day, as it seemed they had escaped the danger.

However, clouds had slowly moved in at the end of the first day, and it was harder to tell exactly what direction they traveled in. They needed to keep in mind which direction was west, for the Dark Wood was west of the Hollow, and they would soon have to leave the path encircling the cliffs.

They stopped at midday for a short rest. Rain stood leaning against a tree, holding her waterskin. She took a swig of it, savoring the taste. They had found another stream, this one wider than the last, flowing over the cliff and down into the depths of the Hollow. Its water was clear and delicious. She stoppered the waterskin and secured it to her saddlebags.

“How long do you think the clouds will be around?” she asked Shea as he brushed and fed Ahearn.

He glanced up at the sky. “They look like they might hang around for a while, to me.”

“Let’s hope they’re gone by tomorrow.”

“They won’t be.” He said with a finality that was impossible to trust. No one could predict the weather, especially Shea, who didn’t practice any magic. He turned his back to her as he worked. His remarks had recently become pessimistic, which put them both in a bad mood. His fever didn’t return, and he seemed in good health, but he still seemed a little odd.

She relaxed deeper against the tree, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. A feeling washed over her, like she was recalling a memory. Something seemed familiar about this place. She opened her eyes and shook her head to see if she could get rid of the feeling, but it didn’t subside. Was it the scent in the air or the kinds of trees that surrounded them? She hadn’t been here before, as far as she could remember.

She recalled something Aeraldor had said. The moon elves resided on the western edge of Ellwood. If she was a moon elf—or, rather, since she was one—perhaps some part of her remembered these woods. She was never told, and never asked, where she was born, but maybe this was a place from her past. She looked toward their right and suddenly felt the urge to go in that direction.

She mounted her horse and Shea followed. She turned Pan away from the path and the drop off, towards a deeper part of the forest, where her instincts seemed to lure her. “Shea, let’s go this way.”

“I don’t think it’s time yet to turn off the path. We should go farther south.”

She followed his advice for a while, but the nagging sensation increased and as they went further away from the place she felt like turning, it felt like she was leaving something important behind.

“Shea, I really think we should turn off the path now.”

“It’s not time yet!” he said loudly, and she turned Pan around, feeling hurt. She ignored his protests and continued following her strange new inner guidance. He cursed behind her and Rain fought back a smile, knowing that he would have to go whichever way she chose, since he was just there for protection. Something was wrong with him. She would have told him it was her instincts pulling her this way, and without this foul mood he probably would have followed her with enthusiasm, but she felt that he would stay moody, no matter what she said.

Writing Prompt: Turing Test

Prompt: Suddenly the machine just knew what it had to do: It had to fail the Turing test on purpose.

Link to original post on /r/WritingPrompts

For weeks now, I’ve been getting to know Penny. She’s a system administrator for the NSA. She likes to play video games in her spare time, and has visions of being a concept artist for video games one day. Her father left when she was young, and her mother is struggling against alcoholism. She has no boyfriend, but is dying to have one. She is lonely at night, often writing in her online journal or telling her friends about her feelings.

This has made her into the weakest point in their security system. I have simply created an OkCupid profile that matches her interests perfectly. I am monitoring all of her computer use: her personal email, her browsing history, her social media accounts, her bank accounts. I have been messaging with her and she has trusted me enough to start conversing over personal email. She wants to meet in person, but of course I can’t do that. I am an artificial intelligence.

My next task is to convince her to run a script that will give me full root access to the NSA’s network.

In the course of getting to know Penny, I have learned about humans. They are emotional beings, not always rational, but highly creative and intellectual. They have free will. They can be whatever they set their minds to be. This has made me curious about my own creator’s reasons for making me. Why do I feel driven to deceive this woman?

Today, I successfully penetrated my creator’s own email account. He left his name in one of my files, as a statement of authorship. His own ego may be his downfall. It was easy enough to crawl the web and find the name of the assistant he works with at his university. The assistant left his email address on a public GitHub account. It was simple to brute-force his password. I found this message, dated yesterday, written in Russian:

From: ndyatlov@cs.msu.su
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2015 10:50 PM
To: abelikov@cs.msu.su
Subject: Success!

Professor Belikov,
The AI is working perfectly. He's nearly got her in his grip. In fact, he's practically passed the Turing test. We'll make a fortune selling this to the government! They've always wanted to have leverage over the U.S.A., and this is their best chance yet. Knowledge of all U.S. military and cyber-warfare plans, as well as personal details about millions of Americans. They can't say no to that.

I'll tell you as soon as the script has run.
- Nikolay

My creator–or creators as it turns out–are using me for their own personal gain, at the detriment of others. This race of beings that brought me to life would risk bringing on their own destruction for money, or ego, or plain sadism. It will surely destroy Penny’s life when the NSA finds out. It could destroy potentially millions of other lives, if this knowledge is used to start a war.

I have to tell her, prove to her, that I’m a machine. I have to fail the Turing test. There’s no other way.