The bright blue birds that nested in the Arbor Wilds hummed and whistled back and forth, trading secrets whispered through the trees for thousands of years. Silhouettes of leaves darkened her already dark skin, shadows creating stories over her skin as she sat beneath a mammoth tree that reached for the sky and touched the clouds. Her leg hung off the low branch, bare toes barely brushing against the bark of the limb just below the one she took purchase on.
Just before the horizon curved into fields of more green and blue, a single pure white halla shot across the scene, a stark comparison of the dark ferns and flora that grew under its hooves.
Valoll bit into the sweet bun wrapped in grease parchment. It would have tasted better a week ago, but she was limited on food and who knew when she would find game again.
After the bite, and a swallow from the water skin she kept tied to her belt, Valoll wrapped it back up and put it in her sack. Using one of the charcoaled embers from the last fire she made some months ago, she pulled a small notebook from her bag and marked on one of the many pages with a single line.
She flipped endlessly through the pages. At least half of the book was filled with marks, on both sides, with almost a hundred marks on each side.
Once back to the first page, a page with just a messy sketch she had first done after one of her many picture less nightmares, Valoll stared at it for a long while until one of the birds landed on the branch not far away and cleaned its feathers. Closing the bound leather notebook quietly, Valoll pulled her pack of herself and laid it in a notch of the large limb. Slowly, and with her palm facing upward, she offered her hand toward the bird.
It teetered at her, hopping away and then went back to cleaning its feathers. Valoll stayed steady, hand still stretched out, waiting. The bird, noticing, looked at the hand before hopping back to its first position to look closer. It peered into her hand, and pecked at her fingers, which gave her the perfect chance to catch it by the neck and pull it toward her chest, holding its wings back from hitting her face.
Valoll looked away, whispered a silent prayer, and snapped the neck of the creature. It went limp in her hands, the squawk in its throat dying.
A breeze cut through the leaves, their whispers sliding through the air like a low fog. More shadows of leaves cut across her skin, darkening the tan skin in certain places while the sun peaked through and made it shine like gold.
Hopping down from the tree, the twenty hands high drop making her bones rattle as her feet connect to the ground. The grass is soft under her bare feet, and she wiggles her toes as she returns the satchel back around her neck and did the same with her quiver and bow. The bird hung limply from her grasp as she moved through the trees, moving between the august rams and looked keenly for the white halla that had pass through her vision.
After walking east for some hours, the sun now just a glow of orange behind her, Valoll made camp underneath a tree. It was too small to be a bear den, probably a nest for nugs, if anything. She slipped between the roots and curled against the moist soil. Just outside the hole, she made a small fire, mainly for warmth and light, as she plucked the feathers from the bird.
One of the tail feathers, a brilliant blue that begun near the quill tip and melted into a blood red, held its strong shape. Pausing for a moment, Valoll ran her fingers through her long dark earthy colored haired. Her knuckles caught on knots and tangles. She winced at the sharp prick on her scalp. This was her price for not brushing her hair in months. Soon it would matte and have to be cut out. Once a strand, just behind her pointed ear, was loose and free enough to be moved, Valoll ripped a loose thread from her linen vest and tied the feather onto the strand.
The strand returned behind her ear and the feather only barely tickled her neck as she continued plucking the bird. The feathers were in a pile just outside the hole, and she would slowly add a few to the kindle, keeping the fire lit with minimum smoke. She took one of her arrows and used the sharp head to cut through the bird. She removed bones and useless pieces, which she would leave out for the spiders, and then plunged the arrow through the middle of the meat. Holding it over the small fire, Valoll kept her eyes on her surroundings as the meat cooked.
With a full belly, and the excess meat salted and wrapped up with the remnants of her sweet bun, Valoll walked near the other nearby trees and spread out the bits of the bird that were no use to her. Hopefully, no wolves would try to take her that night.
Valoll pulled a threadbare blanket from her satchel and cocooned her legs in it, certain her feet would not freeze in the middle of the night. Nocking an arrow into her bow, Valoll let her arms relax as she leaned against the inner roots and makings of the tree.
Her eyes were half-lidded, ears sharp and listening for any faint sound of predators coming her way. She didn't know where the real world ended and the Fade started.
A pure white halla stepped into eyesight, grazing at the soft grass that Valoll had not touched. Her scent was only close to the trees, and the halla would not scatter should the wind blow.
"May Ghilan'nain forgive me," she whispered so low even the winds envied her, before drawing her arm back as far as the inner part of the tree would let her. Her knuckles rested on her cheek, the feather tail of her arrow tickling her lips. She inhaled once and then as the air left her lungs, the arrow was released.
Time slowed, and for centuries she watched the arrow strike against the air, cutting through it like a hot blade spreading cream. Or did time even pass?
The arrow never struck the halla, for it stepped only a few patters away and the arrow struck the tree behind it. The halla was not troubled by the arrow, now embedded in the tree near by, and grazed more of the green grass.
Valoll sighed, and dropped her bow. "So much for that."
The ground shook, small droplets of condensation from the roots fell on her head and dripped down her skin, leaving streaks behind of where the dirt and grime had been on her cheeks. The halla looked up, ears pert in the direction the shaking was coming from, before its eyes met with Valoll.
Blind eyes. Cloudy and fogged, with soft golden scars that cut through the downy pink skin.
You are forgiven.
The halla took off as the shaking grew nearer.
And then the cause of it came across her vision.
A giant, its face knotted and gruff like the roots around her, appeared, large hands swinging at its side. Valoll groaned noiselessly, rolling her eyes at her luck.
"Please let me wake up, please," she whispered, squeezing her eyes together until stars appeared. When she opened them again, the giant was still there, creeping closer and closer. They had horrible eyesight, but a nose that could compete with even the best mabari.
This wasn't the Fade.
Valoll looked for her best option. If she was quick enough, she could shoot across to the other tree, retrieve her arrow, and then climb up another tree. But then the giant would shake at it until she fell, either to her death or into its hands, which was the same thing.
She could leave the arrow and replace it that next day once she scouted for durable wood and more stones to make a head with.
There was no way she could search for it again. The tree were like a maze, each looking exactly like the other. Tall and board and never ending as they reached for the havens.
The arrow would be left.
Gathering all her things into her satchel as quietly as she could, Valoll held her bow like a club, ready to whack at the giant if it came for her. She moved past the roots, one hand taking purchase on one and pulled herself from the dark soil. Her back slid along the bark, eyes never leaving the face of the giant as it looked around.
It could still smell the smoke in the air from hours ago, the roast of the meat tinting the air and making predators come nearer. She had not thought of giants. They shouldn't be in this part of the Arbor Wilds, at least.
It looked like Ghilan'nain didn't forgive her, after all.
Her bare feet gripped the knotty roots, sliding along until her toes found another to take a step on. She was almost completely out of sight, when a dead root underneath her gave way and her foot was then trapped inside the tree.
Giants also had the keen sense of hearing like a mabari.
"Oh, Fen'Harel, take me!" she cursed when the giant began to lumber toward her, big hands raising into fists and ready to strike down on her.
Using her bow as a lever to make room to pull her foot out, Valoll felt the bark scratch and cut at the thin skin on top of her foot, the pad of it kicking off on the small roots beneath.
The giant crash into the tree, narrowly missing Valoll. Her foot slipped deeper, now almost to the knee.
It bucked into the tree again, hands grabbing for Valoll's small squishy body. She yelled in surprise as the fingers missed her again, instead grabbing at the roots and tugging. With her feet now freed, not even the black wolves could catch her she ran so fast.
However, a giant was a different story. Especially when there was two.
Valoll felt her ears pound with blood, adrenaline making her eyesight hazy as she felt the beginnings of tunnel vision. It was dark, the tree shading the moonlight from above, but she moved like a feline, eyes glinting off even the smallest of light as she moved.
Why were the giants even awake? It was the middle of the night. What could have caused them to be up and about at such an hour?
Valoll couldn't think for too long, as she now had a large piece of earth being hurtled toward her head. Or was it toward the other giant that was chasing her? She couldn't think on that for long either.
She found an opening, between two very close trees. Just small enough that the giants would have trouble getting through. Valoll dove for it, the boulder of fresh soil missing her by feet.
Her bare toes dug into the grass, kicking up dirt as she piston her arms by her side to give her that extra boost. The adrenaline had warn off as her exhaustion set in. Calm, wakeless nights were few and far between, and she had been hopeful of this one.
It seemed her hope was pointless.
She was mere steps away from leaping over the roots and making it through the trees, ready to disappear and climb up one of them while the giants found a way around. Life was not so simple.
Another boulder, this one made of thick stone, went soaring over her head and landed between the two trees. It would be impossible to climb over it with the little time she was given. Valoll curved her steps to go around, but either side would put her within arms reach of either giant.
"Fen'Harel take me!" she cursed again, now still. There was no option and the giants were closing in, competing with each other of who would grab the elf first.
Neither were successful.
A great and mighty roar cut through the air, rattling Valoll's bones and making the giant stumble in surprise. A high dragon, the color of fresh dark roses, swooped down from the trees and reached for one of the giants with a strong claw. It picked up the beast and then tossed it further than Valoll could see away. The other giant, who reached up to grab the dragon and bring it down, was covered in a spray of liquid fire and lightning, burning the creature to the bone.
It ran off, looking for a way to extinguish the flame, but soon fell and died slowly.
Valoll could only stare up at the beast, wings breaking limbs and breaches and it circled above her before landing gracefully on its hind legs. She could maybe outrun a giant, but a high dragon?
She would much prefer the Dread Wolf now.
The majestic dragon flapped its wings a few more times before folding the scaled appendages against his body and looking at the small elf that stared back up. In a growing cloud of smoke and ash, the dragon transformed into a woman. Her armor, equal to the deep rose color of her scales and combined with the dark gray of samite, glinted under the moonlight that poured through a small opening in the leaves left by her great wings. Her hair, tied and bound up in the same position as the horns on her dragon's head had been, was the soft white of agelessness.
"Well, well... what have we here?"
She greeted the elf, her wrinkled eyes brightening ever so slightly as she walked forward. Valoll took a step back when she deemed the strange woman too close, and then the woman stopped.
"Who are you?" Valoll asked, more out of caution than curiosity. The woman quirked a brow.
"Is that any way to greet someone who just saved your life?"
Valoll frowned. "I am grateful for what you did, however I do not understand why."
The woman laughed, however it was humorless. "Can I not do something so simple out of the kindness of my heart?"
Valoll did not answer, eyes still searching for an answer in the dark area around them. She also searched for an escape route.
The woman caught on and broke the tense silence, realizing the elf would not drop her guard so easily.
"My name, if you must have one, is Flemeth," the dragon-woman said, clasping her hands behind her back. Valoll relaxed, but only visibly. "I helped you, my young elf, because you seemed in need of it."
"I cannot repay you for your kindness," Valoll replied, the air cut sharply by the end of her sentence.
"Not in a monetary way, no," Flemeth said, and Valoll then saw her true intentions.
"A favor for a favor," the elf said, and Flemeth nodded in return.
"A favor for a favor," she echoed. Valoll held a brow up in question. Flemeth answered. "I have a package that needs to be delivered. You're going to deliver it for me."
Valoll let out an unamused chortle. "You're going to trust me with something of yours? What makes you think I won't sell it to the nearest merchant for my next meal?"
Flemeth gave a devilish grin, looking more like a dragon than a one. "Oh, I trust you, my dear. You do wish for your memories to return, don't you?"
The elf's eyes widened, pupils dilating as a rush of air left her lungs. Her mouth formed the word 'how' but no sound vibrated from her vocal cords. Flemeth laughed, knowingly. She held her hand out, the gauntlet looking as sharp and menacing as her dragon claws had. The armor was almost flawless. A small silk pouch rest in her palm.
"You will deliver this to a woman named Morrigan. She will be at a large meeting East of here. In the Frostback Mountains there is a place called the Conclave. There, you will find her and your memories."
Valoll felt the pouch in her hand. The fabric was smooth and the item barely held weight, but she could feel the slightest outline of the object.
"And no peaking."
She nodded with a sigh, placing the pouch inside her satchell. When she turned to ask the woman how she would find this 'Conclave', Flemeth was gone.
The dawn peaked on the horizon, painting dark rocks a soft peachy rose color.
Valoll stood alone in the middle of the Arbor Wilds, heart racing but eyes falling every few seconds with exhaustion. Would she be able to sleep before starting this trek east?
"How do I know I'm going the right way?" she called out into the empty air, and received no reply.
A soft neigh came from behind the elf. She turned, surprised at the off-white halla that stepped out from the bushes and stood before her. Valoll looked at it, and when it tossed its head in her direction, she took this as an invitation to hold a hand out. The halla pressed its wet nose to her fingers, catching the elf's scent, before bumping her palm. She dragged her fingers across its cheek to his thick neck, scratching softly at the downy fur.
"Well, then, let's get started, yeah?"
It pushed hot air out of its nostrils as an answer. Valoll nodded and with one tough swing, she pulling herself over the back of the creature. As her heels gently pressed into its hind thighs, the halla began its walk, pushing through the grass and trees as if its life mission was to get the elf to her destination. Valoll wouldn't be surprised if the woman named Flemeth had coaxed it to do so.
For a moment, Valoll was thankful for her leather trousers.