In the Light of the Red Dawn
Chapter 1
The circumstance under which she arrived at the inn was anything but pleasant. Just one glimpse at her was enough to tell that she was furious. As she threw the door open to enter into a wooden building, a silence fell upon the merry men inside. Her steel gray eyes took a cursory glance around the tavern before she walked slowly forward to speak to the innkeeper. Gradually the noise level returned to its normal boisterousness as the mortals lost interest in the newcomer. They took no notice of the animal at her side, a wolf that could be mistaken for a common dog if one wasn't looking hard enough. As she approached, the innkeeper hid his unease at her presence with a smile.
"Good evening," he said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. "Welcome to the Snapping Turtle, my name is Boniface. What can I get for you tonight? We have every type of drink from your heady ale to your delicate red and white wines, if that tickles your fancy."
"One room, one night," the stranger replied stiffly, ignoring his invitation for her to drink. The poison in the alcohol wouldn't affect her anyway. Boniface's smile became one of relief; he didn't want anyone to stir up trouble and though this guest's ears were pointed and she held a delicate air about her that indicated she was an elf, she didn't look to be as peaceful as the stories of the elves from Rivendell he'd heard. Being that the inn was located in an outpost built next to one of the many trails stretching across Eriador and on toward the hidden elven city, many of the elves used to travel that way. His family had lived there long enough to know of some of these elves.
"Alright, that will be three silver, if that's all that you want," he informed the she-elf.
The elf nodded and tossed the coins onto the counter carelessly. The innkeeper replaced the coins with a key and motioned to the back of the room where a staircase led to the upper level of the building.
"Your room is up those stairs and to the left, third door."
The elf grabbed the key and nodded stiffly. She moved to the back of the room to follow Boniface's directions, her wolf remaining loyally at her side. In the furthermost part of the tavern she passed by a solitary man, his face obscured by the shadow that his hood cast over his eyes. She took no heed of him, even as his eyes followed her until she had disappeared. Once in her assigned room she pulled off her cape and threw it onto the bed with a small scowl.
"No matter how many times I reside in a human's quarters I will never get used to the pungent odor or the closeness of the barren walls," she snarled.
"Well, it is the penalty of departing from our home, is it not?" a deep voice asked her. She turned to the black wolf who was sitting just inside the door with a smug look on its face.
"If you do not have anything helpful to say, Ishta, then don't open your drooling mouth," the elf snapped irritably before she began to familiarize herself with the surroundings. Ishta only chuckled with a toothy grin toward her partner.
"You have begun to sound exquisitely like your father, Lorelei," she countered. Lorelei paused in her inspection of the room and turned to glare at the wolf. Calm, purple eyes met her own steel gaze and for a time they stared at each other in a silent battle of wills, until Lorelei turned away with another scowl.
"That might be so, but at the least I do not call for valor while I hide away in my throne room and give encouragement from afar," she mumbled under her breath. Her father was the last creature on Middle-Earth she wanted to be compared to.
"I still think you're judging him too harshly for what he's done," Ishta said, now serious. "He only seeks to-"
"Ishta, if you finish that sentence I will make ready my blade and silence you myself," Lorelei interrupted. "If he worries so much for my well being then he should not have raised me with the desire to protect my people. There isn't a day in which I would stand by and watch someone take the life of a child, and if my father imagines it will threaten my people then he is mistaken. The humans have conjured up enough superstitions to keep any threats away from our forest. Stepping out for a moment to end something that should never have been started isn't going to incite a mob of livid farmers with pitchforks to burn down the trees of our forest."
"Do you really believe it is that which troubles him?" Ishta asked with a note of disbelief in her voice.
"It is one of the reasons," Lorelei grumbled under her breath as she turned and flopped on the small twin bed pushed against the back wall, her face pressing into the pillow. Ishta looked at the girl and sighed. Though they were the same age, Lorelei did not have the maturity that Ishta did when it came to her father and Ishta often needed to look out for her. The only problem was that the stubborn elf wouldn't listen to a word she said unless she agreed with her opinion. It wasn't the way they normally worked, and it often frustrated Ishta. Lorelei was one of the smartest, most cunning elves that Ishta had come across. She could talk her way out of many bad situations and she handled the matters of her people with gentle, compassionate words. The two of them worked well together and Ishta couldn't have asked for a better partner. All of that wisdom was lost, however, as soon as Lorelei's father came up to subject.
"Lorelei," Ishta finally said. When the elf didn't answer, the wolf stood and trotted over to the bed. She grabbed hold of the end of Lorelei's braided light brown hair and tugged on it lightly. She said again, "Lorelei."
A sigh came from the elf and she turned to look at her companion with a raised eyebrow.
"However long you run you will have to return and attend to the matter at some point," Ishta said. Lorelei huffed and sat up with frustration.
"I do imagine I've made clear, I am not returning. If that is your wish then go."
Ishta narrowed her eyes as she stamped a paw on the wooden floor of the room. "You know very well that can't happen."
"Then stop pestering me about it," Lorelei insisted and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Ishta side-stepped the she-elf as she stood and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Ishta barked.
"To get a drink and hopefully drown out the sound of your nagging whines," Lorelei said harshly. She opened the door and shut it harder than she intended once she was outside, causing Ishta to flinch a little. It was rare that the two had fights and even rarer that Lorelei got so worked up, but the damage was just too deep. What her father had said and done hurt Lorelei enough to sour her normal quirky attitude for three weeks: the length of their travels outside of their home, a forest called Narmo Rilli that rested just north of Rivendell on the base of the Misty Mountains. Ishta took a deep breath and sighed. Oh, how she longed for the days when Lorelei hadn't any reason to be hurt or angry. She had always been so uplifting and fun to be around that Ishta used to think nothing would ever dampen her spirits. That wasn't the case anymore. She just hoped that the men downstairs knew well enough to mind their own business; there was no telling what Lorelei would do in her state if she was provoked too far.
Lorelei hadn't realized that she wasn't wearing her cape until she was already halfway down the flight of stairs leading to the bottom floor of the tavern. By then she didn't have the motivation to turn around and get it, despite the fact that without her cape all of her weapons were on display for the humans to see. If they hadn't thought she was menacing before, when they saw all of the blades she carried they most certainly would be, at the very least, suspicious. She had a pair of dual swords strapped to her hips that were a cross between elvish and human make. Instead of being curved and elegant like a normal elvish blade, they were shaped in the same way a human's sword would be, although not quite as hefty. The design was thin and caused the blades to cut through the air much quicker than a knight's sword, however it was also strong and meant to deal more powerful blows than simply clean cuts like an elvish weapon. Aside from that, she had a dagger strapped to her right thigh, as well as an almost countless amount of throwing knives and arrows, with which she used to hunt. Her bow was secured around her shoulders. All in all, she had maybe fourteen blades on her person, merely because in a battle she rarely had time to retrieve her weapons if she had to throw them. It could be seen as paranoia, and it probably was, however she found no reason not to have so many weapons. The more the merrier.
When she reached the bottom level of the building she did her best to remain unseen. She chose a seat at the very edge of the bar, where no one was within a five foot radius. It couldn't get much better than that, the tavern was crowded being that it was the only one around for miles on end, and the road it was on was pretty popular. The bar tender noticed her a few moments after she was seated and walked to stand in front of her.
"What do you want?" he asked, not stiff but not exactly friendly either. Lorelei chose to ignore his tone.
"Your strongest," she replied simply. The bar tender raised an eyebrow before he turned around to fetch the purest ale kept in the tavern. He might not have been an expert on elves since they hadn't entered the land for near ten decades, however from what he'd heard it was unlike most elves to consume alcohol made by humans. It was his job to ask questions, but this was one such time he wouldn't. It was obvious there was something on the elf's mind and that was all he really needed to know. He served up the drink and the elf took it with a small huff. She drank slowly, not bothering say anything further although the barkeep was watching her over his shoulder as he catered to the other guests. A while later he made his way over to her again.
"So what's your name?" he asked when she was about halfway done with the drink. Lorelei paused a moment to look into the thick brew and lick her cracked lips before she responded.
"Lorelei," she said softly, "of Narmo Rilli."
"Narmo Rilli?" the bartender asked with a furrowed brow. He had never heard of that kingdom, if it was a kingdom. Although, that wasn't saying much since his knowledge of the elves was very limited.
Lorelei rolled her eyes and took another swig of the ale before responding. "It is better known to humans as Wolfwood."
The reaction she got was exactly as she expected. The bartender paled and did not speak for a long while before he nodded and slowly turned to continue with his job after he mumbled a quiet, "Oh. Well, welcome, Lorelei. Of Narmo Rilli."
With a sour spirit, Lorelei continued to sip the ale she had ordered. She wasn't surprised that the man had neglected to repeat the name given by humans to the forest. Its reputation was almost as high as Rivendell, however for all the wrong reasons. As she sat there, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, a reaction she rarely had. Someone was watching her. Was it the bartender? He was directly in her line of vision with his back turned to her, it couldn't be him. Slowly she glanced over her shoulder to the back of the room where the solitary man had been sitting. The feeling went away as soon as she did, and she realized that the man was no longer occupying the small table. She narrowed her eyes, wondering where he had gone, before she turned around once again to find the eyes of many other men on her. When they saw her look at them they immediately went back to whatever conversations they had previously been having, and she sighed. Already she knew that she was not welcome there any longer. She would stay the night and then leave at first dawn, as was often her routine.
She took one last sip of her drink before placing a few bronze coins next to it and returning to her room. She didn't fancy being hated wherever she went simply because of her home, however it was not in her nature to hide her identity. It was either come up with an ill-suited alias or deal with the harsh glares and suspicious murmurs that would follow in her wake. She would rather take the second option, even though she wouldn't have such inconsiderate treatment if she kept the fact secret that she came from the "cursed" Wolf Wood. Lorelei entered her room to find Ishta casually lying down on the bed with one paw crossed over the other and her ears perked and alert.
"How did it go?" she asked knowingly. Lorelei didn't bother to answer the question, deciding instead to remove the weapons strapped to her so that she might sleep comfortably. Ishta watched silently with a small smirk that the elf still chose to ignore. When all of the weapons she had were resting on one of the wooden dressers close to the bed, she removed her boots, belt, and outer layer of clothing.
"We must make way at dawn," she said to Ishta once the green and brown leather layer of clothing was resting on top of her weapons. Ishta tilted her head to the side questioningly as Lorelei sat down on the bed while expertly undoing the tangled braid her hair had been in.
"I take it then that it didn't go accordingly," she replied. Lorelei stretched out as far as she could on the mattress, her waves of hair spread out underneath her, and looked at the wolf.
"Narmo Rilli's name is soiled by the superstitions the humans have of it. One mention of it and I'm looked at as though I'm Sauron himself."
"I highly doubt they still know of him," Ishta pointed out. Lorelei looked at the ceiling and placed her hands behind her head.
"Whether they do or do not is no concern of mine," she grumbled. "The point is I don't believe we can continue on in the name of our home, the very thing I am proud of in me."
Ishta sighed and placed her head on her paws. "Are you proud of nothing else?" she asked quietly. Lorelei's father had made sure to let his daughter know that he wasn't happy about a single thing in her, and it rubbed off much too easily for Ishta's liking. Lorelei didn't reply, but instead mumbled a small word under her breath. The candles previously aglow were then snuffed out; a bit of magic she had learned. She didn't learn nearly as much as she should have, however, being that it was her father who wanted her to learn it in the first place. She refused to listen to any lessons he had tried to teach her, and instead decided to learn on her own by reading books; a very slow process. Nevertheless, she kept at it and Ishta was even surprised at her progress, considering she had only just begun to delve into the ancient texts. She was still at a beginner's level, but she wasn't much of a mage in the first place. Her training with a sword presided over all else, especially due to the fact that her father had forbidden it.
Ishta quietly huffed to herself; it always came back to her father. Every little thing Lorelei decided to do was an act of defiance against his controlling bonds. From what she'd heard from other elves in the palace, Lorelei was much like her mother, always a free spirit. Perhaps that was why her father worried so much. If only she could make the girl see that; then this silly adventure would be over and put behind them. There was a reason the wolfkin and their wolves remained hidden in the forest, and Ishta knew all too well of it. Sadly, Lorelei would not listen and she had no choice but to follow the elf lest she get herself killed. Fate be with them, she hoped they survived long enough for Lorelei to realize her mistakes and return home before it was too late.
xxXxx
When the first rays of the golden sun danced across her face, Lorelei's slate eyes stretched wide open and she slowly pushed herself to sit up straight. Ishta's eyes opened as well when she sensed that her companion was awake.
"It is late," she observed. Lorelei simply nodded and swung her legs around so that they were dangling over the edge of the bed.
"A side effect of the ale, I presume," she mumbled, although she knew it was very unlikely. She had been exhausted recently and desired nothing more than to sleep until noon before she continued on her journey. It was a strange feeling to her, since she was not only an elf but also a proud wolfkin who hunted often in the late hours of the night. She hoped the feeling, wherever it originated from, would disappear soon. She wasn't ready to bring her expedition to a halt for any reason so pitiful as "I am tired."
With a deep breath she stood and walked over to where she had laid all of her clothes. She hastily pulled them on, readied all of her weapons, and deftly redid the braid in her hair; she still wanted to leave the town as fast as possible, lest she overstay her welcome. Ishta arched her back in a long stretch before she jumped down to the floor, her sharp claws clicking on the wood. Without need for any more communication, the two left the room and moved quickly and quietly through the inn to the exit. The tavern was relatively quiet because, while it was past dawn, the men had stayed up late into the night filling their bellies with thick, bubbly ale and were likely bedridden with a nasty hangover. For once, Lorelei was quite glad that the alcohol of men had no effect on her.
Outside, the sun was shining warmly, betraying the winter season that was only just coming to a close. Over the past three weeks, Lorelei and Ishta traveled in pouring rain or dreary fog that often disheartened them from continuing, but this new promise of spring caused Lorelei to pause in her hurry and take a deep breath of the sweet air. It was different and unfamiliar, however she did not miss the stuffy smell of the always-green pines surrounding her home. They were beautiful, there was no criticism of the trees in Lorelei's mind, however being trapped there for near seven hundred years was… undesirable.
After taking in the splendor of the morning, Lorelei turned to continue on through the roadside town and came across the very man from the tavern that had sat cloaked in shadow. He was talking in low tones with another man that wore the same cloth as he. He didn't seem to take notice of her so she covered her head with her hood and walked by him, calculating him out of the corner of her eye with curiosity. He wasn't anything too impressive, but she sensed something in him that most probably did not see. His near black hair reached his shoulders in waves similar to her own and his eyes, though they were of the purest blue, seemed dark and mysterious. His clothes were worn and he looked to her a tattered ranger of the North; quiet dignity and command seemed to settle about him. Lorelei wasn't sure who he could be, and she was inclined to keep it that way. His presence unsettled her.
The town was much longer than Lorelei had first thought and it took near fifteen minutes to reach the outskirts of it. Ishta had been silent the whole time, but now that they had less chance of being heard she spoke.
"Do you even know the way?" she asked.
"Of course," Lorelei scoffed. Ishta gave her one look and knew that she was lying. Lorelei sighed and admitted, "I haven't the slightest idea once we pass through the mountains and on to Lothlórien."
Ishta looked up at her incredulously. "If we're supposed to travel through the mountains to Lothlórien then why are we wandering alongside them?"
"Because Rivendell is no friend of ours," Lorelei explained. "Father will be expecting us to head straight toward Greenwood rather than skirting around Rivendell to the southernmost part of the Misty Mountains. If we want to remain hidden to my Father's eye then it is the better route, albeit it is considerably longer."
Ishta sniffed. "Considerably longer, indeed. If we had gone through the mountain in the first place-"
"Father's warriors would be right on our heels," Lorelei interrupted. "If we do not bide our time then surely they would find us, and I will, very regrettably, have to ensure my passage. I would continue on to our woodland allies with the blood of my people on my blade if need be."
Ishta chuckled light-heartedly, knowing full well Lorelei would never raise a hand against her people unless given legitimate reason. "There is no stopping you, is there?" she asked sarcastically. Lorelei smiled and was about to respond when a subtle smell drifted past her on a light breeze. She stopped in alarm and her eyes wandered through the trees on the west side of the road.
"On the wind… can you smell it?" she asked Ishta who paused and lifted her nose to the air. It took only one whiff for the wolf to lower her head and raise her hackles with a low growl.
"Human blood," she confirmed Lorelei's suspicions. Lorelei might have an enhanced sense of smell due to her Wolfkin heritage, however she still could not match the senses of a true Eshán wolf. With haste, Ishta trotted through the thick brush of the forest, Lorelei on her heels. The smell emanated from a small clearing where a solitary house sat, its door ajar and smoke gently lifting into the air from the chimney.
Lorelei took the lead and unsheathed one of her swords slowly so as not to alert anyone who could be an enemy, and crept up to the house silently. She peered through the cracked door and found a hulking figure slowly, painfully slide its sword out of a middle-aged man that lay on the floor. The man groaned in agony at the torture and mumbled wishes to die, but the figure standing over him only hissed darkly.
"You're not cooperating well, Muzrad," it said in a scratchy voice. Upon further inspection Lorelei decided that it was an orc, however she could not distinguish its features. "Your end will not come until you tell me where you've hidden it."
"No, please," Muzrad said feebly. "I swear to you I do not know. I wasn't the one who-!"
"Shh," the orc hushed him and put a finger to his mouth. "We would not want your precious son and wife to hear you, would we? Quiet now. And don't lie to me."
Muzrad sobbed and shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered, "I don't- agh!"
Lorelei flinched and looked away as the orc's sword once again pierced through the man in a different spot. She hadn't wanted to intervene for fear that the orc would kill its victim as soon as he saw her, but if the orc wanted information then surely he would not risk any vital organs. The only way to save the man was to catch the orc by surprise. Beside her, Ishta shifted ever so slightly and looked up at her expectantly. Lorelei motioned to the back side of the house where there, no doubt, lay a second entrance, and Ishta made way around the building at once to catch the orc if he tried to run. Sword in hand, Lorelei slowly pushed the front door open to hopefully get inside undetected, but the old hinges complained loudly and gave away her move. She froze, barely able to open the door an inch, as the orc snorted with alarm and looked her way. She ducked away from the opening so as not to be seen, but she was sure the orc would come anyway to see what had made the noise.
There was a sickening shink and cry of pain as the orc removed its sword from poor Muzrad and advanced toward the front door. Lorelei tensed in anticipation and waited for the door to swing open and the orc to stomp out with an angry growl. A few moments later, however, nothing happened. The orc's heavy footsteps stopped and its animalistic breathing seemed far away. Carefully and deliberately, Lorelei leaned forward to once again peer through the crack in the door, and her eyes were met with dark, snake-like slits surrounded by grotesque green skin.
"Found you, elfling," the orc said, spilling its rancid breath over her. Quick on her feet, Lorelei leaped backwards out of range just as the orc thrust its way through the door, effectively breaking one of the hinges. Before Lorelei could recover, its blade sailed through the air in a hefty chop that would have cleaved her in half, but she blocked it just in time. Her knees bent underneath her due to the creature's brute force and she had to roll to the side to avoid being crushed. With a laugh the orc again swung its blade and, still crouched on the ground, Lorelei lifted her sword to block the blow and ended up skidding a few inches across the soft grass. Lorelei pushed her lips back into a snarl and threw all of her strength against the orc's blade to knock him off balance. It wasn't as effective as she'd have hoped, but it was good enough. Her strength had surprised the orc and with her speed she was able to glance a cut off of its sword arm, however the cut wasn't too deep. The orc howled with rage and advanced, swinging blow after frenzied blow. It was all Lorelei could do to stop its sword from reaching her. In the open her skills seemed rusty, at best. She was not used to fighting without the tall redwoods of her homeland surrounding her, giving her leverage.
From the corner of her eye, she saw black fur streak across the field toward the orc, whose concentration was still fully on the elf in front of him. With a savage snarl, Ishta leapt into the air and pinned the orc and its sword under her gigantic paws. A skill all of the Eshán wolves had, she had enlarged her body to be proportional to the size of a horse. While outside of Narmo Rilli it only lasted for a short while, it was still a useful advantage in battle as long as it wasn't too drawn out.
"You took your time," Lorelei mumbled under her breath, although she was a little disappointed that she was not the one to slay the orc.
Ishta looked up at her with a smirk. "Would you like to do the honors?"
Lorelei glared and turned her head away. "Do not mock me," she growled. She would never kill an enemy that she did not bring to its knees first. Ishta chuckled, her voice now even deeper than what it had been before. The orc howled with rage and squirmed to get loose, but Ishta's sheer weight made it impossible. As Ishta bent her head and opened her mouth to reveal massive fangs, the pounding of lumbering paws drew Lorelei's attention and she looked up to see a bulky gray beast thundering towards Ishta.
"Ishta, Warg!" Lorelei shouted urgently. Ishta looked up just in time to be pummeled by the twisted, wolf-like creature often used as a mount for the orcs. The two wrestled on the ground with ferocious snarling and the occasional yelp of pain. Lorelei took a step forward to help her companion, but the air next to her stirred and she whirled around, only just able to block another one of the orc's blows. He had jumped to his feet so fast, like he knew exactly what was going to happen. How long had the Warg escaped her notice? The orc again laughed with enjoyment as it once more began dealing blows quicker than Lorelei had seen any orc make. They remained locked in an even battle for too long a time for Lorelei, and her shoulders and face stung from the wounds Ishta was receiving. One of their weaknesses, they could feel each other's pain. However, they also shared in each other's strength. With a surge of power and agility, Lorelei knocked the orc's sword aside and it flew twenty paces through the air before landing in the dirt. With triumph in her eyes she swung her sword again just as the orc barked out something in its own language that quite possibly could have been an insult. Lorelei's sword cut a deep gash in its side and it howled, crumpling over in pain. Lorelei stepped forward to finish him off, but a call from Ishta resounded in her ears.
"Lorelei, get back!"
Lorelei didn't even have to look to sense the Warg charging toward her, and deftly she sprung backwards and bent her back so that her hands touched the ground, then pushed off of it as she brought her feet back over her head to land gracefully several yards away. With her enhanced strength she was able to avoid the Warg, who simply continued to run past her. The orc jumped on its back as it sprinted away and Ishta began to follow.
"Ishta, stay your feet!" Lorelei yelled. "He will be dead before the morning."
Ishta slowed to a stop and looked resentfully at the Warg and its master, but obeyed Lorelei and followed her as she jogged toward the house. Along the way, Ishta returned to her normal size and Lorelei's reassuring strength waned. Weariness set in, thanks to her large output of energy when Ishta had turned, but still Lorelei needed to check on Muzrad. In all likeliness he had already bled out on the floor, but she had to be sure. If he was alive she did not want to leave him in such a state.
As soon as Lorelei walked through the door, an alarming groan sounded from the man. He was alive, but not for long. Perhaps she could save him. As she knelt next to him her sword clattered to the ground and she addressed his wounds with worried eyes. He had been stabbed several times in each arm, and twice on his left shoulder. Even if he did survive, it wasn't likely that he would be able to continue his farm work to provide for his family.
"Help me," the man pleaded weakly. Lorelei hushed him and placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried hard to remember the healing spell she had read about. The words came slowly at first, but as she continued her memory returned. When she was done reciting the spell she looked down at the man whose expression seemed relieved. A sigh of reprieve escaped her lips, but it was too soon. Again, a moan sounded in Muzrad's throat and the bleeding of his wounds did not stop. Lorelei cursed under her breath and tried again, but it only seemed to alleviate the man's pain for a few moments. Just when she was about to try a third time, the man grabbed her arm with urgency in his dull eyes.
"Lady Elf," he rasped, "please hear me and tell my son to find what the orc wanted from me."
Lorelei paused, well aware that if she listened to the man's words he would be dead. But could she really help him if she'd already tried the spell twice with no results? She nodded her promise and the man coughed weakly before continuing.
"The blood whistles in the mist, and upon her back the sun brings new hope.
"Warrior, warrior, light the way ahead.
"Bring peace to the nightingales, black with sin's dark dread.
"The gnarled root, the view of past glories and future tales."
A grinding cough racked through his body and Lorelei held his hand to give him comfort and a little stability.
"Just north of the Great Mine, just south of the peace unclouded by tradition's veils.
"Warrior, Warrior, blow your trumpet and lay waste to your enemies like kindling on fire." Muzrad again stopped and his eyelids drooped heavily over his brown eyes. Lorelei thought he was gone, but he continued to mutter the last verse under his breath.
"The battle won, victory done, come only again when the need is dire."
Lorelei couldn't believe that the man had held on long enough to recite that whole passage, but his last few words were hardly more than a whisper and she might not have heard it if she were not Wolfkin. She stared with disbelief at the man who had just given her what was probably his most treasured secret in his last breath. What tale had she just stumbled into? And why didn't that spell work! A tear threatened to trickle down her cheek as she reached forward to close Muzrad's eyes and give him peace. Though she might not have known him, death to the innocent was not an event she enjoyed to witness. She realized she was still holding onto his hand, so she laid it across his chest and slowly got to her feet, her sword now in her grasp. Ishta looked up at her, confusion in her eyes.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
Lorelei for the life of her did not know. What was that poem even supposed to lead her to? Blood whistling in the mist, peace to the nightingales black with sin's dark dread? What kind of verse was that?
Before Lorelei could answer Ishta's question, a loud bang came from the door that sounded like something had been dropped onto the floor. Lorelei turned and looked at the entrance of the house to see a woman, most likely the wife of the fallen Muzrad, and a basket of apples overturned by her feet. Sooner than Lorelei could explain the situation, a fearful scream rose out of the woman's throat and she ran outside. Lorelei walked forward in hopes to stop the frightened woman before she attracted unnecessary attention, but she was blocked when a young man, the son she guessed, stepped through the doorframe. Lorelei stood frozen on the spot, trying not to look too guilty as the boy's eyes went from her, to her sword, down to his father, and then back at her again.
"This isn't exactly an opportune moment, however I must refer to saying that what you see is not what it looks," Lorelei tried to explain calmly.
"Not what it looks like?" the son suddenly bellowed out in anger. Lorelei realized just how dark it was in the room and how the blood on her sword could easily be mistaken for Muzrad's, but she wasn't given any more time as the boy grabbed a fire iron hanging next to the door and advanced toward her.
"Murderous wolf-demon," he spat as he lifted the iron and swung it toward her.
"Wolf-demon?" Lorelei asked with offense laced in her voice as she easily blocked the blow. She might have been Wolfkin, but she was no demon! However, she doubted she would be able to tell the boy in front of her, blinded as he was by his rage. He had probably heard in town of who she was and the fact that she was a suspicious outsider with an immeasurable amount of superstitions clouding about her home did not help her case.
The young man continued to hack away at her and she matched his every blow, but she refused to harm him. Beside her, Ishta growled and raised her hackles, annoyed at the human's rash behavior.
"Bite your tongue, Ishta," Lorelei warned. Ishta's growl lessened and her hackles fell, but she dug her claws into the floor with frustration. Was Lorelei going to let him overpower her without putting up a fight? She saw how easily she was deflecting his attacks, however, and moved to the side of the room to be out of the way.
"Die, foul beast," Muzrad's son hissed as he continued to deal untrained blows at Lorelei's sword. She was about to say something to him when a figure in the doorframe caught her attention. For the split second she took to look at it she could tell that it was the Ranger, and that was enough to distract her for the right amount of time to be kept off guard. The son knocked her sword out of her hand and swept her feet out from under her. As she landed with a painful thud he lifted the iron above him to end her life, but the Ranger was quick enough to grab his arm and pull him back. The young man cursed Lorelei's savior and once again tried to advance, but the Ranger placed his hand on his chest and prevented him from doing so.
"You're making a mistake, my friend," he said, his voice deep and calming. It didn't seem to have any effect.
"That swine killed my father!" he yelled and shoved the Ranger aside. Lorelei scooted backwards and got ready to spring to her feet, but the Ranger grabbed the man's shoulder.
"That's enough," he said sternly. Muzrad's son glared at the Ranger, but something in the Ranger's eyes seemed to calm him down, at least enough to listen. "What is your name?" the Ranger asked.
"Gleothen," he replied with an uneasy glance in Lorelei's direction.
"Well then, Gleothen," the Ranger continued, "did you even bother to ask her story of what happened?"
Gleothen spat on the ground as he regarded Lorelei with both ice and fire at the same time, if that was possible. "I will hear no story from a malicious, shadow-loving, blood-sucking-"
At the growing look of anger on Lorelei's face, the Ranger stayed Gleothen's words. "The fact that you don't know her does not mean she is evil," he assured. He looked at Lorelei for a brief moment before bending down and retrieving her sword. "Look," he said to Gleothen, "the blood on her blade is not nearly enough to cause so many wounds, and it is black, not red."
Gleothen looked at the blade and slowly the hate-caused trance seemed to fade from his eyes. The Ranger wiped the sword on his trousers before holding it out to Lorelei who looked up at him with contempt and grabbed it forcefully. She sheathed it as she stood and narrowed her eyes at the stranger.
"I requested no help from you," she huffed.
"No, but you needed it," the Ranger replied calmly, impervious to her threatening tone. With that comment her glare became sharper and she moved to go around him and take her leave of the place, but Gleothen's voice stopped her.
"What happened?" he asked quietly, his anger now subsided into grief. Lorelei paused and debated whether or not to tell the boy the truth, but she knew Muzrad's wounds were evidence enough to disprove any excuse she could come up with.
"An orc was here," she replied, "standing over Muzrad. He wanted something, and was torturing him for it. I arrived and distracted the orc, but by the time I had succeeded Muzrad's wounds were too many to heal. I tried what magic I know to save his life but…" she trailed off and looked toward the floor.
"If what you say is true, I owe you a great service," Gleothen said, his voice quiet but steady.
Immediately Lorelei shook her head. "You require what you have to live," she said, "Ishta and I can survive on our own, you owe us nothing."
Both Gleothen and the Ranger looked surprised, but a moment later Gleothen's resolve to give Lorelei something once again showed on his face.
"I cannot let you leave without some sort of recompense," he insisted.
Lorelei again shook her head. "I merely happened to pass by," she said. "I ask for nothing. However, before I leave, I have a message requested to give to you from your father."
Gleothen looked at her with astonishment, as though he didn't think his father would think of him at all in his last moments. "What is it?"
Lorelei did her best to recite the poem exactly as she heard it, although she was pretty sure she had a few wrong words here and there. At the least she got the general message correct. When she was finished, Gleothen seemed confused, if anything.
"Muzrad believed that whatever the orc was seeking had something to do with that verse," Lorelei tried to jog Gleothen's memory. The boy just furrowed his brow and shook his head.
"That sounds as though it describes some sort of ancient treasure or weapon," he replied, "but Father has nothing of the sort."
"But he does," a sudden voice said from the door frame. A woman stood there, the one who had dropped the basket of apples to the floor. Her eyes were swollen with tears and she still carried some of the terror from when she had first seen Muzrad. Slowly, she walked forward and the Ranger stepped to the side so she could be with her husband again. As she slowly sunk to her knees next to him, she said softly, "Blood Whistler."
Lorelei's breath halted in her throat at the mention of the renowned blade. It was legendary, even she knew about it though she was not alive in the time it had been made famous amongst her people. An elf named Yaban Gizik, translated to English as Wild Storm, wielded Blood Whistler in the time of the Great Journey: the period in which her people moved from land to land, looking for a home. He wasn't a king, but rather a strong protector of his people as they traveled. In legend he killed any threat that came to them, and during battle when his sword touched blood it was said to whistle through the air, hence the name Blood Whistler. While Yaban might not have been famous in any other race, his name was sacred to the Wolfkin of Narmo Rilli, but his sword was lost to the ages. It was said only one person knew the whereabouts of his sword, but it was never known who. Now, however, Lorelei happened upon an opportunity that might yet show her father what she was made of. If she could get her hands on that sword…
"Perhaps payment might suffice after all," she said finally, looking to Gleothen.
Gleothen nodded. "Anything you wish."
"If I find Blood Whistler, may I call it mine?"
Gleothen furrowed his brow, still pondering the significance of the title. "Well, yes," he said, "however I don't see the importance."
Lorelei offered a small smile. "There are few who do. I do not know where your father might have come across the whereabouts of the sword, but I don't think it was just chance that I came here."
The mother looked up from where she had been holding Muzrad's hand and stared at Lorelei. "You are an elf from Rhûn?"
"In essence, all elves are from Rhûn, just as well as all men are," Lorelei explained, "however my people were one of the last to come here."
The mother nodded. "I see," she said. "In that case you are welcome in our home."
Lorelei smiled and nodded her thanks. If Gleothen hadn't looked confused before, he did now.
"Mother," he began, but was stayed by her hand.
"There isn't much to tell you in company, son," she said. "Our purpose is fulfilled."
Gleothen just stared at her and Lorelei again smiled.
"I believe this is something best shared on your own," she said. "I thank you for your hospitality, however the time has come to take my leave."
The mother nodded and hastily stood. She offered the formal goodbye elves often exchanged, a bow of the head and a hand moving from the heart outward. Lorelei repeated the motion, and was quite surprised to notice that the Ranger beside her did as well. She did not ask him about it, however, and simply turned and left the house, her mind buzzing with the news she just learned. All she had to do was figure out the poem, no doubt a riddle, and Blood Whistler would be in her grasp.
Beside her Ishta trotted, and the Ranger followed. Lorelei ignored the Ranger and continued on her way quickly. She had been held up by the orc, but she did not want to fall behind or her father's men might catch up to her. She had been gone for more than three weeks, after all. It was likely the warriors had already been to Greenwood, and quite possibly already returned to her father, if they were traveling with haste. Considering she was the daughter of the king, it wasn't outrageous to say that they were.
Behind her, the ranger continued to trudge along. Obviously he had been traveling the same way as her before, otherwise he wouldn't have passed the small farm, but Lorelei did not want him to be behind her the whole way so she opted not to return to the main road as she figured he would. After quite a few minutes of silence, Lorelei glanced over her shoulder and, to her annoyance, she found that the Ranger was still there.
"He does not relent," she growled down to Ishta who simply smiled.
"Perhaps he thought that since he saved you he'd get a little something?"
Lorelei looked down at the wolf with disgust, knowing very well what she was referring to. "That would be what I would expect from a foolish child, but he is no fool nor is he so young amongst his people that he would try that," she snapped and sped up in her walking. Again she looked behind her and cursed under her breath. He was still following her.
"Calm down, Lorelei," Ishta interrupted her thoughts. "He's probably just heading in the same direction. In a little while he'll turn off to the side and you'll never see him again."
It seemed likely at the time. An hour later, however, and he was still right behind the unlikely duo. Finally, Lorelei stopped and turned around to face the Ranger.
"Is there reason in which you trail me?" she asked through slightly clenched teeth. The Ranger responded patiently and quietly as though Lorelei was simply a child throwing a temper-tantrum. That only served to irritate her more, considering she had probably lived twenty of his life times, at the very least.
"I'm not following you," he said. "I just happen to be traveling in the same direction."
"You can go around me or take a different route," Lorelei pointed out. "You don't have to walk in my footsteps."
"And have another orc attack you?" he asked with a small smile. Lorelei narrowed her eyes and again turned around to go on to where she was headed. It wasn't much of a surprise when she heard the Ranger again begin to walk behind her. She did her best on tuning out his surprisingly light footsteps, and it worked. After but a few moments of concentration all Lorelei heard was Ishta's quiet paw steps at her side and the birds singing heartily of the new spring. The sun was rising to its peak but the shade of the trees kept the air cool. A breeze from the mountain succeeded in chilling the small forest, pulling the temperature down even more.
"So," the Ranger finally interrupted her concentration; she had wondered when he would speak. "You're from Narmo Rilli?"
Lorelei did not face the Ranger as she replied, "Perhaps."
"You're not going to reveal anything, are you?"
"Certainly not."
The Ranger smiled at her bluntness. "Then I suppose it will be me first. I'll give you my name and you'll give me yours."
Lorelei paused. "If you know where I hail from then you know my name," she said.
"I know what you told the barkeeper," the Ranger replied. Lorelei again remained silent. Would this be the time to choose an alias? Perhaps if she did she would be in less danger of being found.
"The name I gave him was correct," Lorelei finally said. In her experience deceiving only led to more deceiving, and she did not want to spin herself into a web of lies. Besides, none knew of her, she had never before ventured out of the forest alone. It was unlikely she would come to any harm from it.
The Ranger behind her nodded and said, "It is good to meet you then, Lorelei. Many people call me Strider."
(A/N): Well~ This is a co-op fanfic that I am doing with Gael Drake, she is awesome. Although she hasn't posted any stories yet... So don't try to look at her stories because they are nonexistent online so far.. She will post soon. Lol, I made her get the account a few weeks ago so she's not very far yet. X3 BACK TO IMPORTANCE. Hope you liked the chapie and you should tell us how we did so that we can actually finish the second chapter. (It's started, promise. We just haven't finished.) The review box is empty. Make it unempty. Please~
-KC & GD