Another of my favourites. Sunstar is all grown up now, and about to discover something of her past.
ElfQuest (c) Wendy and Richard Pini; Windwalkers (c) me as is Sable, Sunstar, Magpye, Dreamwolf and the others. Lyrics (c) the amazing Candlemass, buy their albums, there is nothing more emotional in the world of Doom Metal, Candlemass are the Kings!
For more information on the Windwalkers, visit my homepage (one of many) - http://members.nbci.com/Sharna" Come here if you are confused!.
Dark Reflections
"A black star fell down the night I was reborn
A last chance to save us, a last chance to turn dusk to dawn
The vultures they cried out their welcome to greet my arrival
The shadows they danced for my death at nightmare's trial."
- Candlemass
The golden haired elf poised, feather tipped throwing spear in hand. Beneath her, in the shadows of the trees, she could hear the crashing sound as something small and very frightened darted through the undergrowth. If all went as planned, it should pass almost directly beneath her. An instant later, the delicate toothed ungulate crashed into the glade. As it appeared to be about to disappear through the other side, out of reach of the elf's spear, a large whitish bird swooped directly into its path. The deer panicked, wirling quickly about it met Sunstar's thrown spear directly through the neck, penetrating the jugular. A perfect shot. As the deer's lifeblood gushed out, it crumpled to its knees. Sunstar dropped swiftly from her perch, prepared to complete the final rites with the club she carried, but it was unnecessary. She hugged the vulture, which looked somewhat puzzled, as Fluffy always did when she used his help to make a kill. It was not natural behaviour for him, killing things and she used the bird mainly for surprise.
A moment later, red-faced with exertion and excitement, a panting Magpye entered the glade. She was a better pursuar than Sunstar, whose skill with the throwing spear gave her the edge they needed. Behind the silver-haired elf youngster stalked her long legged snake-eater friend. The tall raptor was as out of place in the rainforest as the bearded vulture, but neither seemed to mind much. Quicksnake prodded experimentally at the carcass with her hooked beak. The deer was a larger kill than her kind normally ate. Magpye threw her arms around Sunstar in an excited embrace, heedless of the blood that had soaked into the dark-skinned elf's tunic.
**We did it!** She sent enthusiastically.
Sunstar grinned. **Of course we did, what did you expect?** She grinned mischeviously as, shaking the now blood-smeared elf off, she cut the deer's elongated canine teeth from its jaws, giving one to her friend. **Do you think Cormorant would believe it was a jaguar tooth?** Cormorant was Magpye's older brother, by over fifty turns, and they were always trying to proof to him that twenty turn old fledglings could do as well as he. The two young woman were something more than friends, yet something less than lovers, kindred spirits on the wind. There was no one else close to them in age, Cormorant and Dreamwolf, the other youngsters of the flock, were both approaching 100 turns in age and Dapple and Wren, the two youngest, were little more than chicks. It was a difficult time for the two females, they knew they were skilled hunters, especially with the help of their bird-friends, but it was difficult persuading their elders. They had chosen the small toothed deer as their first target, because it was harmless enough to not scare their parents too much, but large enough to be more impressive than a ringtail or maskeye. Sunstar hated killing the ringtails anyway, with their pixie faces and curious nature, they were somewhat endearing to her, reminding her of children. Their meat was tender, and their fur luxurious but they were gentle in nature.
The two fledglings set about butchering the carcass. They would not be able to take everything home, the hide was too heavy to carry, especially since Windwalkers were unable to carry large burdens in their hands whilst flying. The entrails were flung to the two birds. Quicksnake set about "killing" them as if they were a snake, much to the amusement of the elves. Fluffy looked at them disdainfully for a few moments, then ate them. His kind generally preferred bones, but a free meal was a free meal.
**I wish Jester were here,** Sunstar sent. She was referring to Dreamwolf, her adopted guardian's, wolf friend.
**What? Too lazy to carry it yourself?** Magpye replied mischeviously.
Sunstar, her fingers dripping gore, flicked blood at her friend.
**Eww,** Magpye wiped her clothing, although it was stained anyway, **you're sick, you know that?** Her Sending was not serious.
Sunstar smiled impishly. **Yes, thank you.**
A raven spiralled down into the glade, followed by another one. The large black scavengers were not common in the rainforest, they were also a poignant reminder of the danger the youngsters could be in. A jaguar and snapjaw were not too proud to eat carrion, and neither were particularly pleasant company.
**We must hurry,** Magpye expressed both their thoughts. Cutting as many chunks as they could, they put the meat into the carrying baskets both carried. These were worn strapped to the chest to help carry kills without inhibiting flight. Sunstar, however, had other ideas. Her flight, unlike the others, did not depend on her wings, although these were useful in keeping her easily airborne. Her father, Windkin, was of both Wolfrider and Glider parentage and he had passed his skill onto his child. Grasping the hide, from which they had scraped most of the available meat, Sunstar glided upward, to the upper reaches of the trees. The hide was heavy, she was unable to carry it far, for it still had a good deal of meat on it. She draped it over the upper branches, where it hung like a beacon to aerial scavengers.
**What did you do that for?** Magpye asked, as the golden-haired elf touched down.
**The scavengers can clean off the hide,** she replied, **birds will do less harm to the skin then jaguars, and a jaguar will not climb that high. For the branches are too weak to support it properly.**
Magpye shrugged, somewhat sceptical. But they had enough meat and the had the teeth, enough proof of their kill. And now unfortunately they must hurry home, because the tribe would worry if they were late. It seemed almost ironic - Magpye had already gone on a soul-journey, which had resulted in the discovery of Quicksnake, and Sunstar was more skilled with her throwing spear than, say, Dreamwolf. Of course, Dreamwolf had Jester and Jester was Sunstar's best friend aside from Magpye and Fluffy. Even though she could not communicate with the wolf the way his elf-friend could, he was playful, affectionate and protective of Dreamwolf's ward.
The rosy fingers of dusk were clearing the horizon by the time the two young women arrived home. Jester darted out to greet his two young friends - even at over twenty turns old the wolf was still sprightly. Windkin had said that his pack's wolf-friends had elven blood that made them live a lot longer than normal wolves, and Sunstar was very glad of that. It was hard enough watching bird-friends die, and their span of life was so short compared to that of an elf. Even the bearded vulture was starting to show signs of age, but she thought he had some life left in him yet, if today's performance was anything to go by! Jester greeted her by leaping up on her as she touched ground, placing his paws on her shoulders and lapping the blood stains from her face.
**That tickles,** she Sent, trying to contain the laughter. Dreamwolf was not far behind him.
**Our young hunters have returned,** she Sent, sounding mildly concerned but trying to disguise it. **And what do you bring us tonight?**
**Toothed deer,** Sunstar replied with a grin. **Nothing too risky.**
Whilst the two were talking, Magpye pushed past them and into the open area before the roost. It was a warm night, and the tribe were gathered in the trees around the, at present empty, fire hearth, listening to a tale told by Skysong, weaver of words. She flapped up quietly to join her brother, and probably to show off the tooth.
**Has father returned yet?** Sunstar asked her adopted mother. Her father was always involved in storylines of the Pini's, thus spent some time away from the flock. He had saved her from the desert as a child though, saved her from the humans that had killed her mother and he had brought her here, to the surviving Windwalker flock. She knew he loved her above everything else, but now she was old enough to be on her own, he had important business to attend to. Dreamwolf made a good substitute mother, despite their relative nearness in age. She had been drawn to the sparrow-like elf from the start - Dreamwolf had lost both her parents and knew how hard it was for Sunstar growing up without a mother. The young elf could scarcely remember Skydancer, her mother, she had been three when the desert and injuries incurred by the humans, had taken her beyond this world. Also, Dreamwolf knew what it was like to be different, she was quiet, shy, an inept flier. Sunstar was different too, her skin was darker, but her differences were only physical. Her flying skills were already greater than most of her flock, although she felt she was cheating in that respect, if Windkin had not been her sire...
The tale was one she was long familiar with, the story of how her flock and this one had divided when the twin brothers Ravendark and Starlight had fought. Story telling amongst the Windwalkers was something of an art, they remembered well without the use of dreamberries and it was possible to get bored if the story teller was poor. Skysong however, despite his age of close to 3000 turns, had a knack for it. He had seen much of the history that his flock were told about, outlived several chiefs, and had a tendency to mime out his Sendings.
**Unable to take it anymore, Sablerose declared that the two rival twins should Challenge,** he group Sent.
Sunstar paused in her conversation with her guardian - this was her favourite part of the story, the part where the two brothers fought like the great eagles, locking themselves together as they both plummetted earthwards. Not even Skysong could attempt that manouevre! She needed no answer to her question anyhow, the look on Dreamwolf's face indicated the answer. Her father had said he would return within a dance of the moons, and time was almost up. Not that she worried about him, not as much as he worried about her, but she longed to see him again, to feel his arms around her, to hear the tales of his travels. She was starting to suspect that Dreamwolf was taking an interest in the much-older elf too. None of the flock males paid much heed to her, whether she be a healer or not, and Sunstar had to admit that her guardian was somewhat drab in appearance. There was a part of Sunstar that suspected however, that if Dreamwolf would take more pride in her appearance, and move with more confidence, her age-mate Cormorant might be tempted. Magpye and her had often subtly tried to pair the two up. Cormorant was a good-looking elf, although his sister would not admit it, with his silver-hair and black wings and his piercing steel-blue eyes. He was also the best fisherelf in the roost. When Skysong had announced his name, years before Sunstar's birth, it was known he was named after the snake-necks that fished along the river banks. Cormorant was a name that meant snake-neck. Sometimes an elf's name, and future was known at birth, other times, like Dreamwolf, they were just given a name that seemed appropriate at the time. Dreamwolf had been named Sparrow, but Jester's appearance twenty-three turns ago had changed that. Sunstar looked across the clearing, at the elves that made up Starlight's Windwalker flock. Starlight himself was long dead, but his blood, the chieftain's blood, flowed in her veins. She looked at Goldflash, her distant cousin and the flock's chief. She was as powerful as the eagle perched beside her. Mighty huntress, and worthy leader of the flock. She had accepted Sunstar with open arms, perhaps seeking to mend the rift begun by their ancestors. The flock perched according to status. Beside Goldflash was her father, aging now. Her mother bore the chief's blood. And her mother was dead. The chief herself was far from young, yet she had not yet produced a chick of her own. It was a worry to the elders, who would lead if the chieftess were to die? Her father was too weak to.
Forgetting her musings as she was overtaken by Skysong flapping and then tumbling in a comical representation of Starlight's triumph over Ravendark, she banished the thoughts from her mind. Certainly flock-life was intriguing.
Uneasiness stirred her senses. The young dark-skinned Windwalker dragged herself into a half crouch as Jester twitched in his sleep. There was something pulling her. Something calling to her. An incessant tugging that gnawed at her like hunger. She had been feeling slightly odd for a few days now, but had thought it was just worry at her father's absence. Windkin had not yet returned. But now the feeling was in her again. Stronger. If she had of experienced recognition, she would have said it was like that, but she knew not. All she knew was she had to follow the force that was drawing her to it. Quietly standing, she dressed carefully, trying not to wake Dreamwolf. Jester whimpered, buried in lupine dreams. Taking only her carry bag, her spear, a change of clothes and a shiny stone that Magpye had given her, she left the small quarters she shared with the healer, on the ground. She knew her best friend would understand why she was leaving, for the silver-haired woman-child had followed a similar calling. Glancing upwards at the great white shape that was Fluffy, she wondered if the vulture should accompany her. The bird opened one red eye and cocked his head at her. He was coming and she could do nothing to stop him. You could sneak away from your elf-friends, but not your animal-friends. Jester was not bonded to her the way the bearded vulture was. She figured he understood why she was leaving anyway and would not raise the alarm. She would return as soon as what she was seeking was found.
For an half an eight-of-days she travelled, living off small kills of bush pigs and maskeyes. Prey was plentiful and she was happy she had no need to hunt the pixie faced ringtails. Fluffy sought out the remains of jaguar kills, cracking open the bones by dropping them on rocks. The weather was mild - it always was in the great forests, even when winter scoured the land. She glided from tree to tree, flitting between the branches with great dexterity. Several times she almost stumbled upon the jaguars, as they crouched in the trees waiting for their prey to stalk beneath them. Once she almost landed on a black jaguar, so camouflaged with the shadows that he was all but invisible and the scent drawn away from her by the breeze. It had snarled at her, slashing at her with one clawed paw and only her quick reaction had taken her out of harm's way. She had been shaken for hours after, even though Fluffy did his best to comfort her. The nagging urge grew stronger the further she got from home. Calling her.
Dreamwolf was worried, and angry. The youngster she was supposed to be looking after had wandered off. Feeling that solitude-lust, that overwelming desire to be alone, had overcome her charge, she had no t been too concerned at first. Sunstar could look after herself. It was Jester that angered her. He refused to follow the fledgling, given obscure replies of: **She hunts what we cannot see.** So, Sunstar had followed her friend Magpye's behaviour, had gone on a soul-quest. Although Dreamwolf knew the child was completely capable of staying out of trouble and not starving to death, she was worried. Worried because Sunstar's father was due back any day now and she dreaded telling him his beloved daughter had disappeared. She did not want to get on Windkin's bad side, she had not stopped thinking of him since he had gone away. The she-elf was lonely, and none of the elves, none but Windkin paid her much attention at all, except to tease her. In human years, Dreamwolf would have been a teenager, and was experiencing all the longings and desires of that age. She did not know that Cormorant, only a few years her senior, was feeling the same. It was all but impossible to track Windwalkers anyway, especially Sunstar who could fly faster and higher than her kin. That was why they had escaped the humans for so long, even though many of the youngsters of past generations had visited the villages and played tricks on the humans. Only Skysong, and maybe Jester could do it, and all the dream-speaker would do to help was assure her that Sunstar was venturing on a soul-journey and would return whole. So Dreamwolf sat and twiddled her thumbs, and waited...
The glade was smaller than she had expected and choked with vines and deadfall. The small brook, which she knew with her soul was there, had been long suffocated on briars and weeds. Wolfscent, old now, filled the air, the familiar odour of Jester. All that remained as testimony to the elven history of the glade, was the ancient mother tree, its nooks and crannies twisted in a way that reeked of elven magic. The youngster flapped first to the tree, sensing that she was here, wherever here was, the place that had called to her. She peered cautiously into one of the hollows, aware that it could harbour serpents or angry mammals. It was empty, but the odour of animal was almost intoxicating and the amount of debris on the floor suggested a mask-eye or brushtail lair. The other hollows were likewise occupied, owls peered at her with their black eyes, a mask-eye hissed, a wide eyed ringtail watched her curiously. Fluffy had dropped off to sleep in one of the upper branches, head buried beneath his wing. The poor old bird was getting tired. Sunstar realised how tired she too was. And then she saw it.
A small patch of soil in the centre of the glade was completely clear of foliage, its brown-red soil exposed to the skies. It called to her, and she answered, crouching on it. The soil was warm to the touch, soft. Sunstar manouevred into a cross-legged position, palms placed on the soil as she had seen Skysong do when seeking the distant earth-memories. If only she had some dreamberries to help her. But alas, they were extremely rare in the rainforest, and she knew them mainly from ancestral memory.
At first, her senses were filled with nothing except the whisper of the wind in the tree tops and the sound of small mammals going about their daily business. Her mind began to wander towards sleep and suddenly she became someone else, somewhere else.
An excitement welled up in the delicate creature. Soon they would land, becoming entities to be respected, admired. She could sense the excitement in the others too. After roaming the infinite lands of the stars, they would finally be home. Home, it had such a nice ring to it. She stretched her pale, lithe body, pushing back her ankle-length midnight tresses with a delicate hand. The doors of the Sky Mountain opened and she gazed upon the new world with awe-filled emerald eyes. So beautiful - the plains of lush grass, bordered by the brilliant green of the forests. The strange, hulking beasts that moved to greet them. One of her companions stepped forward to greet them, hands raised in greeting and Lorralei's paradise suddenly turned to pain.
Red and black Sendings assaulted her mind. **Blood on ground, blood on hands, death.** The humans were merciless and the creatures that later called themselves elves, were unprepared for such a slaughter. Disorientated by the fearful Sendings, the stain of blood on their sanctuary's floor, the rich coppery aroma of blood in the air, Lorralei ran. She made it several feet before one of the brutish creatures leapt on her from behind, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Pain, such pain and death, the cold burn of a spear penetrating her side. Blood on her ivory skin. Vision blurring behind a veil of tears, flashing with the images of the dead, the dying and their final grief-filled sendings. Confusion. But most of all, fear. Somehow, Lorrelei tore free of the spear, running across the field. Running on adrenalin fed by fear. She sought the shelter of the trees. The pain was horrific. Burning, seering. Her left leg turning numb. She fought to change her shape, but the magic resisted her, dancing just beyond her fingertips. The human was approaching her. **Blood on the grass, choking blood, death scent in air, death,** disorientated her thoughts. A bird, some type of long legged raptor, soared awkwardly away. With the last of her strength, Lorralei fixated on the bird, her spiritual fingers grasping at the magic. The human gasped in surprise and a little fear, as the sky-demon he pursued suddenly became a bird and flew away.
She was dying and she knew it even as she made her escape. The blood-wound stained her grey-white feathers, trickling down her scaly legs. The left leg hung useless, dragging. And this new form, so bizarre, so alien, she knew she would fail to sustain it.
**Blood, death, betrayal,** the sendings still came, weaker now, intermingled with others - some had escaped alive. Weariness overcame her and her left leg kept catching in the deadfall and tree branches, sending her tumbling forward. Pain, blackness, her mind was filled with blackness! And red. Death, it cried, death. Visions of carnage flashed across her eyes. Her companions dead, bodies broken, twisted in mysterious ways, shattered beyond repair. She barely noticed as grassland became forest, forest became jungle. How long she flew she could not know. The fear kept her from stopping and the pain kept her from resting. At last she collapsed, the wound reopening in a rush of blood. Her companions were lost to her. Her wings had no feeling left in them. Her lifeblood drained into the eart, its magic residue penetrating the rich soils. Giving back to the earth what had never been a part of it. **Black** and **crimson blood flowing** filled her senses, as in her delerium she sent to herself. **Death, betrayal, fear.** All strange concepts, all too recent memories. As the last fingers of light disappeared from the blood red sky, Lorrelei arrived home.
The vision fleeted like a shadow. Sunstar shook as if in her own death-throes. She had felt it all, the pain, the horrible memories were seered to her soul. She collapsed face down into the dirt, the sendings echoing in her mind, **death, betrayal, fear.** Concepts that were all too familiar to her. She blearily eased open her eyes, almost expecting to find that she was dead. An elf stood before her. Long black hair framed a delicately, boned face with skin as white as virgin snow. Emerald eyes gazed into her violet ones.
**Lorrelei,** she sent, the visions of the long-dead High One still strong in her mind. But it was not, for this elf was smaller, clearly male, and, without a doubt, a Windwalker. There was a haunted look in his deep green eyes, his resemblance to Lorrelei was astounding.
He shook his head in reply to her sending, and reached out a pallid hand. His fingers were cool upon her face, gentle upon the tears she had not even realised smeared her cheeks. Yet he drew back his hand as if stung.
**Who are you?** she asked, mystified, but he only shrugged in reply, raising one finger to his lips and disappearing into the trees. Sunstar struggled to follow him, knowing she could overtake and normal Windwalker. But her legs were sore and by the time she regained her feet and finally glided after him, he had vanished, as if a shadow.
The branch sagged under his weight as the ancient elf gazed at the stars. And remembered. Windwalkers did not have the luxury of wolfsong to flee into and all of Sable's ten thousand or so years of existence stretched before him like the stars above. An infinity of sorrows, of sadness, of reflections. Only one part was a haze in his mind, his early years, before his Transformation, forgotten in the thunderstorms of subconsciousness. He had long forgotten the elf he once was, remembering only the elf they had made him become. The Silent One. One delicate hand touched his left ear, the raised welt that replaced the tip a poignant reminder of Torturer. Sable remembered little of Torturer, banished it to the storms of his mind, but he had not forgotten the loneliness, the hopelessness, the loss os self. But that was past and this was present and he brought his thoughts back to what he could control. Her. The child in the glade. The child who had felt the demonstration of the High Ones tragedy as he had dreamt it, many times. But that was also not important. What was important was who she was. There was the taint of Him on her - the elf that had destroyed his son. He let his thoughts wander to the place in his mind that Darkstar dwelled. Darkstar, the child of his soul, the child he had outlived by millenium.
In his wanderings, Sable had met many elf tribes and been known by many names - Melancholy, Solitude, Silence. He had sired several children, one to most of the significant tribes. Many of his children he had outlived. But Darkstar had been the first and Sable would always remember him. He and the black viper responsible for his son's death.
It had been only a few turns since he had left his home-flock that he had come across a strange, almost beautiful, sight. The weather had been drizzly, the sky heavy with rain, and the Blue Mountain had been partly obscured by mist. Curious, one trait that had somehow survived Torturer, Sable had flown closer to investigate, sensing something elven about the mountain. He had not flown far when a mighty bird overtook him and he was literally scooped from the air by a strange tall one. They frightened his raven-friends away, killing some of them. And they took him deep into the claustrophobic bowels of the mountain. Whether as a curiousity or captive, he never really knew. As they were about to show him to the Lord of the mountain, the inevitable happened. He Recognised. Within hours he and his Recognised had been taken captive by the black viper that called herself Winnowill and hidden away in her serpent's lair.
They had been allowed to fulfil the cravings of Recognition, whilst the black viper watched with hungry eyes, and then he had been encased again, locked in some type of cage and tortured in ways that Torturer had only dreamed of - the black viper invoked his soul name. But he was hardened to captivity, hardened to tortue and the rainstorms of his mind offered him sanctuary. Eventually the child was born. He named his son Darkstar, but his child never knew his name for Sable had long since lost the ability, or perhaps only desire, to send and did not care to speak. His son had shown promise, even raised within the confines of the black viper's lair. She had pampered him at first, encouraged his flying ability which was superior to and Windwalker that Sable had ever seen. He had seen the promise in Darkstar and often planned his escape. Now he had something to live for, a son, there was some hope in his mind and his resistance increased.
But escape was not to be, for somehow the black viper obtained another infant. He was somewhat younger than Darkstar and quickly became Winnowill's new pet, for he was a wingless glider, not a feather abonimation as she considered both Sable and his son. Meanwhile, perhaps because of the loss of freedom and the black viper's tortue, his Recognised died. She took her own life one day (or night, Sable could not tell), using the eating utensils she was allowed. Sable never used them, he had never learnt to. And Winnowill, the twisted flesh shaper performed strange magics on the two children. He noticed the changes in Darkstar first, for his son was older. His beautiful son began to change, no longer eating delicately with his hands but scoffing his food as if he were a beast. When his son was allowed near him, the child snarled, even bit, and around Winnowill he became as tame as a bond-beast, often curling up at her feet to rest. His eyes too changed, become feral, wary, he jumped at the slightest noise. If Sable understood rightly, the younger child was tainted with wolfblood, which that black viper had somehow transferred into his own son, the freak.
And then the child's parents and tribe came for him. In an uncharacteristic panic, Winnowill cast out both the Windwalkers, perhaps she feared they would intervene in her protection of the now untainted child. Sable had tried to keep hold of his son, but the scars she had caused could not be healed. The child became wilder day by day, a mad creature he pounced on small animals from the sky, tearing out their throats with his teeth. The wolves called to him, and try as hard as he could, Sable could not stop his son from answering.
He saw Blue Mountain fall, and a part of him was happy for despite what it stood for, it was an abonimation. He saw the wolf-riders escape, but he did not care. All that mattered to him was he did not see the black viper escape, and he hoped she too had fallen. Despite his son's alienation from him, he watched the child for a century of his existence, the strange winged child that ran with the wolfpack, killing as they did and fighting his way up the hierachy. In a small way he was proud for his son's determination, confused for the packs acceptance of him. But he seethed inside too. For his son could have been great and together the two of them could have led the return home, to the world where humans were but a distant memory.
It had been a terrible day that day his son died. The wolfpack were feeding on a deer, when suddenly a mad longtooth had attacked them. Wolves scattered, some killed by the flying claws. His son, boldly faced the predator that almost outmassed him by double his weight. Sable wanted to intervene, but knew he could not, his son had chosen a feral existence and would attack him if he appraoched him. Darkstar had sprung on the longtooth, clawing at its eyes, its fur. And the creature had torn him apart.
For the first time since his childhood, Sable had cried, hot tears for his son who had never lived as an elf should, tears that he had not cried through his time in Torturer's clutches, or Winnowill's, or when he had abandoned his flock.
And this fledgling had the taint of the wolf-blooded infant that had stolen his son's immortality. Turned him to the way of the monster, but she had something else too. The taint of his blood, diluted by several generations but there was no doubt that she was a part of him, not directly, but perhaps of his long-dead sister, Aurora. He could not kill her. As emotionally unstable as he was, as caught up in his angst, he could not kill her. It was not her fault that the wolfrider who had destroyed his son featured in her bloodlines. And she was such an attractive youngling. He ignored the stirring in his loins at that thought - for all she was, she was blood-kin, his blood-kin. He could see the promise in h er, the strength that his own son had turned to the lupine way, and he knew that her father must love her, as he had loved his son. A plan began to form in his grief-maddened mind,a plan of revenge.
Something was wrong, Sunstar thought as she awoke to the first lights of dawn. But what was it? After a moment she realised. The birdsong. Usually the sky was filled with the dawnsong of many birds, but today there was odd silence. Silence broken only by the occasional corvid caw and the sound of shuffling. Suddenly frightened, she clambered to her feet, scanning the glade. Ravens everywhere, on every branch like dark fruit. Black beady eyes watched her, and they stood silent, only hissing at their flock-mates when their shuffling sent them into each other. A chill flashed down her spine. She had never been this frightened before - even when she had almost used a panther as a perch. This was more than natural fear, there was something intensely unnatural about this meeting. She tried to take wing, flying frantically from the glade, panicking.
Ravens buffeted her from all sides, slamming into her body, forcing her downwards. Her superior maneaouvreabilty was useless against their superior numbers. She crashed to the ground, surrounded by what sounded like cawing laughter. She was trapped.
Magpye was getting anxious. It had been two eight-of-days since her friend had left. Her own soulquest had ended after but one eight-of-days and she had left the rainforest for the open savannah. Something told her that things were not right, an uneasiness in the back of her mind. She spent much of her time pacing, and managed to stumble into Windkin, who was also pacing. He had returned four days ago, eager to see his daughter, and had been anxious ever since.
**Does not anyone know where she is?** He sent furiously to Skysong. The elder cowered, his silver-white hair hiding his face from view. He brushed it back and stared at Windkin. It was almost a challenge, and Windkin, wolfrider born and breed, refused to break the gaze. Eventually Skysong broke the gaze.
**I believe she went on a soul journey,** he sent. **To the ancient glade where our kind were born.**
**Do you know the way?** In his concern, Windkin was direct, firm. Nothing was more important than his daughter, even if he disturbed her soul-searching.
The elder shook his head. **We left there before my birth,** he sent. **But the wolf knows.**
**The wolf, Jester?** Windkin was inexplicably puzzled.
Skysong nodded. **He was born there. The dreams tell me so.** Knowing that most of the flock were worried about Ravendark's only living descendent, he had gone into meditation several nights ago, discovering the answers to questions he knew would be asked.
Windkin was gone in an instant, leaving Magpye flapping hopelessly after him. He had lost two lovemated, he was not about to lose his daughter as well.
**Why do you keep me here?** Sunstar sent frantically, knowing the pointlessness of the exercise. He had never returned her sendings before, and the sable-haired elf was not about to start now. **What do you want from me?**
Sable knew not how to reply, he wanted to tell her the plan, for if he could make her call to her father he could let her go sooner. But he was unable to Send. Somehow he doubted the youngster knew how to speak, he had never heard one of his own kin speak aloud, ever. He watched, struggling to hide the tears as she collapsed pitifully into the dirt, next to the bedraggled form of her vulture friend. The bird had fought ferociously at first, just as she had, but there were many ravens to replace any wounded or killed, and both had eventually succombed to exhaustion. He hated himself for what he was doing - there was a part of him that nagged at his conscience. "Are you goingto break her as they broke you?" He did not want to think of hims elf as a Torturer. But every day that passed, he felt more and more as if he was going that way. Would he be chopping her ear-tips off next? He did not know how to tell her that he did not mean to hurt her, just wanted revenge. Revenge on the one that had stolen his son's identity. Revenge on the one that had stolen Darkstar's life. But he could not tell the child that, no matter how hard he tried. Suddenly he paused, a sound reached his ears. He smiled. Could it be that her father was finally here?
Jester, shaking somewhat in nervousness at being so close to his place of exile, paused. His ears laid back, flat against his scalp, the golden bristles on his neck stiffened. Windkin knew immediately that something was amiss - for the trees ahead were black with strange fruit, birds. Magpye squeezed his hand, perhaps to reassure herself. He had not wanted the youngster to come along, but she had insisted and his complaints of **slowing him down,** had fallen of deaf ears - with Jester as the guide they had to walk anyway, and if Dreamwolf could come (nobody could speak to Jester as she could, besides they might need a healer), why could not she? Eventually he had relented, for all her few years, Magpye had proven herself more than once, especially on the soul-journey that had lead her to the strange predator bird. Quicksnake stood almost as high as an elf, taller than any of the great eagles, yet she had not the bulk. The bird stalked along beside them, occasionally lunging at insects and small lizards on the tree trunks or in the grass. But she too paused as they approached the clearing.
**Happy place gone bad,** Jester sent to Dreamwolf, and she put a reassuring hand on his nape. **Bad smell, sick mind smell.**
Dreamwolf could not work out what her wolf-friend was trying to tell her. **We must proceed quietly,** she sent to her companions, **separate and scan the area.**
Immediately, Magpye flapped into the branches of a tree and Jester and Dreamwolf pushed their was into the undergrowth. Quicksnake stalked along beside Windkin.
**I see her,** the silver-haired elf girl sent excitedly. **She's in the glade, surrounded by ravens, and standing before her is a black-haired elf.**
**She's fine?** Was Windkin's first retort.
**Alive, appears unhurt, but she's scared and very confused.**
Windkin nodded. **Sunstar?** He sent, aimed at his daughter.
**Father!** Her reply was strong, excited and very relieved.
**What does he want?**
Sunstar's reply was annoyingly obscure. **I don't know,** she replied, almost flustered. **I think, I think he wants you father - but I don't know why! Don't let him hurt you!**
A chill ran down the glider's back. He wanted him, but why? To the best of his knowledge Windkin had never met any Windwalkers besides the ones this flock knew. He had never hurt anybody. How could this creature want him, want him enough to take his daughter captive? How sick was someone who sought out one elf by taking his innocent offspring captive? Winnowill sick? Had he found another of the black snake's kin?
**I'm going in,** he Sent to his companions, ignoring their protestations. **Make sure my daughter gets out alive, even if I don't.** He was horrified about the thought of facing a black snake, but he had to save his daughter. If it was he the dark elf wanted, it was he the dark elf was going to get.
The elf that strode into the glade was different than Sable had thought. Perhaps he had thought the elf would have his son's look to him, or at least look evil. If anything the elf that had taken his son's immortality was somewhat normal in appearance, brown hair, brown eyes, no wings. The doubts that had already taken wing in the haunted elf's mind flitted about, but he quickly banished them, bringing the thoughts of his son to mind.
"What do you want?" The elf asked, speaking Sable had not heard an elf speak for years. But then again, Sunstar was the first elf he had seen in years.
"Revenge," it felt strange speaking, he had not spoken in centuries, but he knew he could, and his anger, and confusion, pushed the words to mind.
"Why?" The wingless one challenged.
The silent one was befuddled, he could not find the words, so he resorted to mime. Drawing one finger across his neck in a slicing movement he said one word "son."
The elf knew what he implied, but did not understand how it referred to him. He was struck into silence. And then he replied. "I have never met your son, but you may have your revenge if you must, just let my daughter go."
Sable nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. At least he would not have to destroy the child as well. He had been terrified that would be necessary. He motioned to Sunstar, trying to send her away. She glared at him, her violet eyes boring into his.
**NO,** she sent furiously. **You will not hurt my father.** Finding unknown strength, she sprang at the strange elf, throwing him backwards onto the ground.
The elf was surprised, so surprised that this meek creature had attacked him that he did not command the ravens. The birds were disturbed anyway, as used to him as they were, their simple brains could not fathom why they needed to keep the child captive. They did not know that this was not the way their elf-friend had planned. A few cawed and shuffled in discomfort.
Something strange came across Sunstar as she pushed the mad elf to the ground. Her thoughts flickered, and suddenly she was him. And she knew his pain and anger. Knew the root of it. She sprang back as if stung.
**Father,** she sent furiously, **I know - know what you did to him! When the black snake gave you immortality she stole it from his son, making him into a beast-elf.**
Luckily for her Windkin was relatively quick-thinking, because her sending was garbled, bizarre. He knew the tale of his birthing, and how the black snake had interfered. But even though they knew the root of the elf's insanity, he had no answer. Sable was clambering to his feet, and the ravens began to stare at him. Any second now he was going to make them attack.
Sunstar, bold child that she was, stood before him, she was slightly shorter, but her stance, her courage made her appear larger. **The black snake killed your son,** she sent boldly. **My father was but an innocent child.**
All that crossed Sable's features was a cast of anger, his green eyes glinting. "Revenge," he repeated.
**Challenge him,** Sunstar suddenly sent to her father. **It is the only way.**
**Challenge?** Windkin had seen the wolf-challenge several times, but did not see how it would work against an insane elf.
**Remember Ravendark and Starlight?**
Suddenly it clicked. "I challenge you," Windkin declared and Sunstar had never felt so proud, so proud of her father, so proud of herself.
"Flight-challenge?" Sable droned slowly, as if his lips had trouble forming the words.
The glider nodded. "Like Ravendark and Starlight."
"Father," he muttered, barely audible, and nodded. "Challenge."
"But first send the ravens away," Windkin was all to aware that the ravens could kill them all, if not through strength than through sheer numbers. He did not know if he could trust the elf.
The raven-haired elf pointed skywards. "Up, first."
Windkin gathered what he was trying to say, they would get in position for the challenge and then he would dismiss the birds. **As soon as I am airborne, I want you to run,** he sent to his daughter and other companions. **If he cheats, I want you to move as soon as you can.**
There sendings were unanimous - they would move, although he wondered if the sending truthfuly expressed their desire. He knew that Windwalkers had highly toned their sendings, and could lie. But the black-haired elf was getting restless and the challenge must go about.
He glided clumsily to the top of the trees, trying to give the mad elf the impression that he was a poor glider. Sable himself soared upwards almost effortlessly, with an ease that Windkin had never seen in a Windwalker. Perhaps this would be a challenge! Perhaps the emerald eyed elf had some glider blood himself. He was disturbed to find he was nervous. He had heard about the flight challenge, even seen it in two harpy eagles feuding for territory, but never had he participated in it. And never had he seen Windwalkers doing it. It was deadly, more deadly than the wolf-challenge. After reaching the top of the trees he had no choice but to soar upwards, something he noticed the bird-elf was having some difficulty with. They attained what it appeared Sable considered the appropriate height, Windkin thought perhaps that was as high as the elf could venture above the trees.
Sunstar and Magpye watched awestruck as the two elves glided high above the trees. The dark-skinned elf marvelling at her father's courage and Magpye somewhat awed at the other elf's flying skills. She had never seen one of her kin go that far above the trees. Dreamwolf clambered up into a branch to watch, as the ravens suddenly scattered, disappearing into the forest. Jester wuffed quietly, his sight was much poorer than his elf-friends and he wanted Dreamwolf to show him the mind pictures of what was happening.
The two airborne elves flew towards each other, interlocking their legs. Now they were bound in a manner that meant they could not use their wings. Or in Windkin's case, that the weight of the other elf pulled him down, against his gliding magic. To escape, all they had to do was straighten their legs and soar away. The first to pull away was the loser, and if neither pulled away, they would both plummet to the ground. It was a battle of wits, a deadly aerial game of chicken.
The two circled around each other, falling faster and faster towards the trees and sure death. The onlookers watched with baited breath.
Despite his fear at the swift, spiralling flight, Windkin manage to keep his wits about him. And he sent furiously to the elf, whom he knew could understand but could not fight back in a mental battle. He sent the elf images of Winnowill, images of the two children. The two children that could not choose their fate, their fate that was at the hands of the black snake, an ef with only evil intent. He tried to show the elf that he had not wanted to become immortal, to lose the wolf-blood, tried to make the elf see the joy of wolf-blood. A maelstorm of images buffeted the bird-elf's mind, but still Sable did not relent, did not straighten his legs and soar free. Windkin's world was a swirling mist of sky, blue, welcoming, and earth, getting larger, closer, reaching out to crush them both. In his singlemindedness, the dark-haired elf refused to break the challenge. Soon it would be too late, too late for the bird-elf if not for him. Collecting all his stored up memories in one heap, he aggressively dumped a final sending into Sable's mind.
**If you can blame a tiny chick for stealing your son's immortality, why don't you blame him for accepting the wolf-blood?**
And it was suddenly over, but it was not. Sable straightened his legs, trying to flap free off the death-lock, raising his wings to slow his speed. The ground was so close. Somewhat disorientated by the constant rotation and feeling more than a little air-sick, Windkin grasped his last strength and glided free. He could not stop his motion altogether, but he slowed it enough to see that Sable had failed. The speed the two had gained was so swift, that even with wings outspread, the bird-elf was going to crash land. So Windkin tried something that was more dangerous than the actual challenge.
Sunstar watched breathlessly as Sable hurtled earthwards, his wings slowing him but a fraction. Her father, the obvious winner, suddenly threw himself into a headlong dive. He must have been using his gliding strength as well as gravity, because somehow he overtook the falling elf, grabbing him but a few seconds before imminant collision. And then, and Sunstar almost cried in shock, her father, although the momentum of the falling Windwalker was pulling him down and although there were but a few metres from the ground, tried to glide upwards. They seemed to pause, the two of them, hesitating in air, and then both crashed to the earth in a shower of dirt and plants.
**Father!** The child sent, rushing to his side.
Windkin opened his eyes. **Yes daughter?** He asked, sounding almost mischevious, although in obvious pain. Dreamwolf was suddenly by his side, lying her hands on him. Healing him.
**You're very lucky,** the healer sent, **a broken rib, but nothing serious. It takes more than a slight fall to kill you.**
The glider grimaced. **A few bruises too I suspect,** he replied, feeling the relief from the healer's magic. **I shall be sore in the morning. But what about him?** He managed to drag himself into a sitting position. Jester licked his face.
Magpye had raced to the pallid-skinned elf's side as the other two had raced to the gliders. She seemed almost fascinated in the mad elf. He looked in a bad way, one arm-wing was twisted badly, probably broken, but the worse thing was his face. His eyes held such a haunted, almost lost look that the young elf almost longed to hold him, and his cheeks were wet with tears. She did not understand her fascination with him, she could just sense something.
**Blyk,** she sent to him, and his emerald eyes overflowed with tears.
The strain was evident on his face as his bruised and broken body and broken soul strove to push out one word. **Trea,** he sent, to her and her alone. The first sending he had managed in 10 000 years.
Magpye ran one hand down his pale cheek, wiping away the tears. And she saw, saw the elf he had once been, and the elf he could become once more.
She moved aside as Dreamwolf stepped in to heal his physical wounds. The mental ones would take a little longer.
It was a strange ceremony that night, as Sunstar instead of Skysong took centre stage. Despite the trauma of her captivity by the ravens and the near-death of the two elves, she told her story confidently and thearatically. Skysong smiled to himself - it seemed he had a worthy succesor, if she were interested in learning the ancient tales that was. Fluffy, after gorging himself on the bones left from three eight-of-days absence, had falling asleep leaning against Jester. The only one absent was Magpye, and Sunstar felt her absence strongly. Her age-mate had remained in the ancient glade with Sable, and although the two of them would return soon, she missed her. The young elf knew what had passed between the two of them, and knew that it was the first Recognition between two Windwalkers since the time of the firstborn. It was an omen. A new beginning, for Sable, for the Windwalkers.
Her father suddenly soared down to stand beside her, as her tale was completed. He put one arm around her.
**I brought someone back to meet you, my little fire-bird,** he sent to her, and her alone. As the entire flock watched in curiousity, he made a beckoning motion with his hand and Dreamwolf, who had been sitting partly obscured by the brush, Jester across her lap, pushed something forward. Sunstar gaped in surprise and happiness, as bounding towards her came a small bundle of fur and claws, a powderpuff of silver and white.
*The little bitch just followed me home!** He group-sent, and some applauded as the wolf-pup leapt into his daughter's arms, nuzzling her face, nipping playfully at her braids.
Sunstar's sending was wordless, but filled with gratitude, joy.
**I brought her here for you, and Jester,** he told her, **for it seems there just are not enough wolves in this here pack.**
The young elf stroked the powder-soft fur. **Her name is Ghostdancer,** she informed her father,
It was a strange name, he reflected, but at least it was better than Fluffy.