Note: This story is pretty old. It was first written long before being posted here. I started it in... 2002, probably. Although it underwent some revamping when it got posted, that was hardly enough. My point in all of this is that it starts out as rather childish and the writing lacks quality. It's horrible by my current standards.

I didn't even have a beta-reader back then, and now it's a bit too late for her to help fix these old chapters. That's to warn you. If you can bear through the start, it does get a little better later on, and in the 20-something chapters the writing itself is boosted as well. That's it, pretty much.

NOTE ADDED NOVEMBER 26, 2009: If you're stumbling upon this story right now, it really is not the best time to read it. As it says above, it fails. Added to that, I'm editing it. Details on my profile. Story and characters won't change, but... it'll be that much better a read?

Chapter One

The ship seemed to somehow grow heavier and sink a little deeper into the water, its swift journey becoming more focused as it was losing speed. The island of Brynnlaw was well within sight, and the breeze so specific to shores was already affecting the atmosphere. The disordered city, the only one on the island, was agitated, and most likely noisy, at that specific hour of the day. More ships could be seen docked on the sides of wooden platforms ahead.

The black-haired elven woman opened her eyes and stood up. She had been sitting on a crate, half asleep, for quite some while, rather oblivious to what was going on around her, but the agitation produced by land-sight had torn her from that state. She noticed a few men staring her way, just as she was flipping her black hair, in an attempt to give it some sort of shape, any kind, really, just not the totally messy one she assumed it had. They were, no doubt, measuring her two sheathed longswords and the green elven chain mail she wore. They must have aimed to guess her skill in making use of those, but thankfully she was pretty well-built for an elf, and that helped her. Had she not been a seasoned fightress, they would have surely tried something by now... something that she really wasn't in the mood for. That was why, when she turned fully to them, it was only to assure them that her strength was not a mere appearance; she fixed them with the icy glare of her deep blue eyes and simply stood there, menacingly grim, until they took off one by one, motioning for another place and something else to stare at.

With one last scowl, the elf turned again, and walked towards the parapet, settling her elbows upon it in a light lean-in move. She studied the island's full silhouette in the distance, for a few moments, taking in every detail she could make out, and then she frowned a bit, pursing her lips with some sort of unexplainable discomfort. She turned her head, searching the ship for something, and finally detached from her spot, heading for some stairs that led up to a platform, where a tall man stood posted firmly, supervising the crew.

"Captain," she said as she stopped behind him and bowed her head in recognition of his superiority to her for as long as she traveled on his ship. But her tone, as usual, gave out nothing more than strictly necessary. She pointed to the side. "That outspread shadow, far-off on the island... What is it?"

"Ah... Miss Toreen." The captain could barely keep from showing his surprise, resulting from not having noticed her approach; but he was still polite, as he had been during the entire trip. He was quick to recover. "That would be Spellhold, or the place where, as they call it, 'the magically deviant' are held."

"I see." The elf rubbed her chin with one hand, lost in thought for a few moments. "Thank you, captain."

"It was my pleasure, Miss."

She didn't mind the man anymore, even though surely his politeness held only the best intent, and she walked off back down the small wooden staircase. She headed for a nearby cabin door and opened it, not bothering to enter, but obviously looking at someone inside, which she immediately addressed, as well.

"Nirra, come out; we're almost there!"

She could barely keep from stomping her foot, with the agitated impatience already taking control of her, as she was waiting for the other one to come out. She stepped away from the entrance, and soon another elven woman came out of the cabin. This one was blond, of fragile and delicate build, even for an elf, and wearing simple blue traveler's robes. Her eyes were brown, deep, her expression filled with dreamy innocence, and her only weapon was a black wooden staff, obviously enchanted, by the strange way it glittered. The pallor of her skin and the insecurity of her walk let out that she'd been feeling less than fine.

The two walked towards the parapet together, and settled there, to watch the island grow bigger and more defined as they approached.

"Finally..." Nirra almost whispered with obvious relief.

"Hmph." Her companion rolled her eyes. "This trip was actually refreshing... But you spent most of the time in that rat hole they dare call a cabin, so you wouldn't know."

"Oh, Torri... You wouldn't say that if you were seasick, like me."

"Yeah, right," Torri muttered. "As if fresh air would've harmed you."

But Nirra just left things at that and continued to watch the island, with the azure sky above it, trying to avoid seeing the water, since that would have only caused her to be sick again. Torri turned her head to watch her friend attentively, then she narrowed her eyes as the shadow of a superior and all-knowing smile curled her lips.

"Thinking of him again, aren't you?" she asked, rather ironically.

"Oh..." Nirra sighed again, but differently this time, almost blushing a bit. "Yes, I am... Sometimes, Torri, I really wish you would fall in love, just for once. Then you wouldn't mock me anymore."

"Yes, well," Torri retorted, unaffected. "Maybe I could love someone if men weren't all such overrated morons."

"How about your interests then?" Nirra asked, in a more curious fashion. "Maybe you could get your hands on one of those rich noblemen if you actually tried to."

Torri's face clouded, as she feigned a childish pout and looked at her friend from the corners of her eyes. "I would rather kiss a drow than even touch one of those selfish, arrogant bastards."

"Maybe you'll get the chance?" Nirra chuckled in amusement. "We're close enough to the Underdark."

Torri looked down at the waters, pressing a bite to her lower lip. "Well." She waved a dismissing hand, doing her best to still seem calm and careless. "If we do indeed meet a drow, I fear that my sword will take care of him before I ever get the chance."

Nirra laughed, not at the joke, of course, but much rather at her friend's antics. "You're hopeless!"

"Hopeless?" Torri frowned. "How so?"

But she didn't get an answer; Nirra was pensive again.

"...What is it, this time?" Torri said, looking at her friend with a slight trace of worry.

"Nothing." Her companion barely took notice enough to reply to her.

"Am I supposed to believe that, Nirra?" The black haired elf pursed her lips, holding back from pressing any further and tapping her fingers on the taffrail, impatiently.

"Well..." The blond elf averted her eyes, looking away, to the far reaches of the sky. "You would mock me again if I told you."

"No." Torri shook her head, something in the other elf's attitude compelling her to be serious and quite concerned. "I..."

Nirra glanced at her friend for a single moment, before looking away again. "I was thinking... Although most of my kin, the gold elves, think all of the drow are evil... that is not true."

"But of course it is true!" Torri scowled, fixing her friend with a questioning look.

"No..." Nirra shook her head, causing light tension among the strands of blond hair. "There are those of them who turn to the light... And their fate is so cruel... Think of it a little, Torri. They are condemned to being hunted by both drow and surface dwellers alike, maybe for the rest of their lives... They're sent into absolute exile."

"Oh." Torri's face darkened visibly and she remained that way.

"It troubled you?" Nirra was quick to get concerned as well. "I apologize."

Torri sighed softly. "Discussing the drow is acceptable from time to time, although you know how I feel about them. But the word 'exile' is one I wish I wouldn't have to hear."

"Ah." Nirra seemed to be affected by the thought as well. "You mean the Exile?"

"Not only, but yes." Torri nodded. "Him, and all the trouble he has caused. Your people banished him, cursed him. And still, he's out there somewhere and that makes my skin crawl. Had it been my people instead of yours, Joneleth Irenicus would be dead now."

Nirra attempted a soft smile, shaking her head in gentle disagreement. "His punishment was far worse than death."

"Yes, but..." Torri took a small break, considering if she should voice that last thought or not. Finally, she decided to do it. "He still has a chance to return. I doubt he isn't planning any sort of revenge at all. Both your Queen and the Tree are in great danger."

"Yes." Nirra sighed. "Some of us also think that way. Not even Queen Ellesime herself doubts it, I believe."

"Well." Torri swallowed tightly. "I really don't want to talk about your Exile anymore. It still brings back those unrelated memories, no matter how hard I try to stay on topic."

"I... I know."

The two remained silent and clouded with thoughts further on, even as the ship docked and the landing platform was set in place. The passengers began to slowly head to shore, descending the wooden board, but the two remained among the last, dallying absent-mindedly. Finally, they proceeded to the actual docks, along with the last group of people.

"I'm so happy to be off the ship!" Nirra said as soon as she felt solid ground under her feet, and she took a couple of healthy deep breaths.

"It doesn't make any difference to me." Torri shrugged a little, following right behind. "The only thing that bothered me were those imbeciles that kept staring at me, but I've no doubt we'll find enough of those here, as well."

"Why are we here, anyway?" Nirra became suddenly curious.

"Do you remember the pirates we helped, a while back, with getting away from the Shadow Thieves in Athkatla?" Torri took a small break, to see Nirra nod, then went on. "Their captain promised that, if we ever came here, the priestess in the Temple of Umberlee would have an enchanted ring for us, as a reward."

"Umberlee?" Nirra asked, wiggling her nose, with a bit of disgust.

"Yes, the Bitch Goddess of the Deeps," Torri replied, though knowing better than to insult a deity more openly, even one not worshiped among those of her kind. "We'll just take the ring and leave."

Nirra laughed. "I think I can survive such a short visit."

"Let's go, then. The temple should be right up some stone steps around here."

They started walking along the city's lowest street, the one that went along the wooden dockside, alert and looking for the mentioned steps.