Leiryel lay, sleeping, in a tall oak tree. A pale hand dangled over the branch, sunlight peering at her through the leaves. Unaware of her actions, Leiryel turned to her side, falling from the tree into a blackberry patch. She awoke with a start, leaping from the thorny bush. She rubbed her back where small prickers were inserted, sighing sorely. "Ow..." she murmered. She shook her head and walked forward, stopping now and then to pick a thorn from her hand. She continued until she came across a ravine. She peered down the cliff to spy a river of gushing water. Leiryel could hear movement behind her. Turning quickly, her eyes laid upon a bedraggled man. His clothes were torn and tattered, he had cuts all over his body, and his eyes were tired and miserable. "Are you okay?!" asked Leiryel, wide-eyed. The man didn't answer; instead, he leaned forward, then fell. Leiryel caught him and asked, "What are you doing here?!" She glanced around fretfully, hoping for some path or sign leading to medication. Seeing none, she pushed the man onto her back and carried him to her village. After a mile of walking, Leiryel was beginning to become aware of the man's weight on her shoulders, his heavy breaths. She urged herself to go on, and a moment later, arrived at the village. Children were playing, elderly telling the stories of old. Leiryel dragged the man to the healing shack. She placed him onto a bed and asked the Healer to help the man. She nodded and started pressing some herbs to the stranger's wounds. Leiryel left the hut, sweaty and exhausted. She left for her home, knowing the man would take at least a day to heal. She sat on her bed and dumped her feet into some ice-cold water. She rested her back on some pillows, sighing. How had that man even made it to the ravine? How had he gotten hurt so badly? Those were Leiryel's thoughts as she sat on her bed in deep concentration. She shifted her position a little, making herself more comfortable. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream was heard, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Leiryel sat upright and bolted out the door. The village was empty. Every soul had retreated into their houses, all but the Healer, who lay dead on the ground, crimson liquid pouring from his mouth. Rommy screamed as the man sprang out of the healing shack, eyes red. His hands were bloody and the smell of evil wafted through the air. "...No!" cried Leiryel as the man sped toward her, arms outstretched. The man dropped in midair. He lay, motionless, at Leiryel's feet. She whimpered slightly, then glanced around to see what had happened. She saw an old Wizard holding a staff, glaring at her. The two just stared each other down for a moment, and then it dawned on her. "...I wasn't with him!" she screeched defencivly, "He was trying to kill me!" "Excuses, excuses," yawned the Wizard boredly, "You brought him in, you take him out. Now go, before he kills anybody else." Leiryel was stunned. "Where am I supposed to take him?" She asked with slight annoyance. "He'll kill me before we get anywhere." "See for yourself," said the old Wizard. He turned and entered his cabin, leaving Leiryel alone with the man. "Well..." muttered Leiryel, staring at the sleeping man, "Looks like it's you and me, pal."