This chapter is longer than the previous one, huh? Must mean there's a fight scene somewhere in here. :)

I think this is where people will see my attempt to expand and add depth to something that was already there... and I hope you all enjoy it.

Oak and Holly

Helping Hand

The path down the mountain to Carderock was fairly long. Given that it was already late in the day when Cynthia had, according to Elora, unceremoniously kicked her out and Thomas had a bit more gently removed him from the Divine Order, Braedon knew they would be travelling at night unless he convinced her to stop. Trying to convince her, it turned out, was like trying to convince a tree to move out of your path. Contrary to what she seemed to think, he was not one to simply sit down and pray to the Goddess that the tree would see reason. The tree would move whether it liked it or not, even if that meant obliterating it.

He clenched his jaw, reminding himself that obliterating a sorceress just because she was stubborn was not at all righteous and he crossed himself as he prayed for patience instead. For once she took no notice of it, storming ahead and sending careless blasts of fire and dark energy into the forest. She had probably killed at least four goblins in the half hour they had been walking.

Any hopes he may have had for the snow convincing her to stop had been put to rest when he discovered that as well as a new staff she had somehow attained a cloak to keep her warm. It looked suspiciously like one Tara had worn…

"Elora, I'm going to have to ask you to keep your magic under control." Braedon was annoyed by her chanting her spells, but he also knew that it would only attract the attention of any monsters in the area. He was still tired from the ordeal with Jacob and using his own magic to finish healing both of them before their journey into the wilderness, and he knew better than to trust Elora to handle a fight on her own.

"I'm going to have to ask you to shut your mouth."

"Elora, really…" he frowned, his voice tight with the strain of trying to sound patient and understanding. He was not sure how many times he had prayed for patience since they had been forced to work together, but he was starting to believe that if he uttered it again it would actually lose meaning. Briefly, very briefly, he thought that maybe he was depending on prayer too much.

Had this been Jacob's struggle? He still couldn't comprehend what could have made him turn to the Cultists for solace.

Despite the negative response, he heard the distinct sound of her returning the staff to her back; it was hard to not make a smart comment about it, to give back what he got in kind, but the most he could muster was: "Thank you."

"You look so pathetic I didn't have much of a choice. I don't get much satisfaction from kicking a lost poochum pup," she replied easily. When he didn't reply, they fell into an uncomfortable silence. She didn't seem to know what to do if no one argued with her, and save the one time she had mentioned Jacob earlier in the day Braedon was not one to argue. He knew he was a stark contrast to the sorceresses she had grown up with who were all happy to trade insults and snide remarks.

It was not the silence though that bothered him; he focused contentedly on the sound of his boots crunching in the snow, strong and confident. They both knew that they could not consider one another a friend, and while neither was broken up about this, Elora was not quite as comfortable with silence. That nervous energy was hard to ignore; her footsteps were hesitant and quiet behind him, kicking snow onto the back of his legs. Both hurried when they reached Frost Hill, mutually deciding to not even give the idea of staying in Jacob's tent a chance to form. The sun was already starting to set but the snow was beginning to slow as they increased the distance between themselves and Mana Ridge, and despite his early reservations about travelling in the dark Braedon felt compelled to go on.

When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Elora with her neck craned to watch the top of the buildings in Mana Ridge disappear behind a cliff. He wasn't going to hazard a guess as to what kind of thoughts were going through her head as she left her home for the final time; he didn't think that she would feel any regret or loss, but he couldn't fathom any other reason for wanting to see it once more.

"Why are you staring at me?" Elora snapped him out of his thoughts, glaring as he quickly turned his head. "Don't pretend that you weren't, Braedon."

"I'm not pretending. I'm giving you privacy while you watch," he explained, chancing a glance back at her. She looked embarrassed at being caught herself. "If you want to stop—"

"Of course I don't! If the snow wasn't so deep I would be running in excitement to be leaving, I don't need time to look back or absorb it or—" she quickly snapped her mouth shut. "You're walking so slowly, if you're going to lead the way you better pick up the pace!"

"Of course."

She continued to shuffle along behind him, kicking snow onto his legs; he had obediently increased his stride, a feat of little effort since he was rather tall but he was aware that despite Elora's frantic steps she was much more adept at maneuvering in the snow than he was. They were on the edge of Snowmelt Forest and his breath was frequently appearing as large puffs of white. Though her face was turning pink from the cold, her breathing was still steady.

He was grateful that she had no snide comment about it.

The sun had dipped well below the horizon and any lingering rays were blocked by cliffs and dense trees; his concern about travelling at night crossed his mind again. Many of the Divine Knights he had been dispatched with had been hesitant about actually staying in Mana Ridge, and most had set up tents in Snowmelt Forest. He had a feeling he would have a hard time selling Elora on the idea of sharing accommodations with a Divine Knight that she did not know; it would probably be a tough sell for the Divine Knight as well.

After he brought up the idea she immediately balked, as expected.

"I would rather share a tent with a goblin, to be quite honest with you." Judging by the flat and dry tone, she was indeed being quite honest with him. "I know you're having a tough time finding the will to go on, but I'm perfectly fine with continuing straight to Crystal Stream. Besides…"

She didn't finish her sentence, leaving him to figure out what was going unsaid. Not in the mood to assume, he stopped and faced her with a frown. "Besides, what?"

"You know what. Jacob admitted it himself."

His body tensed, feeling a momentary rush of blood that probably made his face flush red. He had been pushing it out of his mind since Jacob's death; clerics were very susceptible to having Dragon Cultists worm their way into their ranks. While he would have been offended by the suggestion before, he found himself having the same doubt in his brothers that she was voicing, especially since it was the reason he had been dismissed from the Divine Knights. How many more were possibly waiting in the wings, now that they had killed a high ranking member?

"We'll continue on to Crystal Stream." His voice was raspy, his mouth suddenly dry, and it pained him to admit that he could not trust his own kind; even if he wasn't a Divine Knight, he was still a cleric. They were deep into Snowmelt Forest when they did come across the camp and he found himself unable to even glance in its direction as they both snuck by.

The moon was moving higher into the sky by the time they were trudging past the abandoned laboratory and cloister. They were both starting to feel drowsy, but their only options now were to keep going or to find a decent tree to sleep in or under. Elora supported the first option, Braedon the second, but it was Elora that got her way; his conscience wouldn't let him even consider allowing her to continue through the woods on her own. If neither of them were in any condition to fight, he at least had a shield.

"I'm not questioning your choice to continue, but it seems that your pace is starting to slow…." In fact, Elora had stopped completely only a few minutes after demanding they keep going. When he turned to look at her, she was sitting on the ground trying to rub her feet through her boots and glaring at him. He stood for a moment, a baffled look on his face. "How can I—do you want help?"

"My feet are just sorer than I realized. I'm not injured and I don't need your help." Stubborn to the very core was probably the only way he could describe her to someone that had never met her before. Despite the fact that she was in obvious pain, she was not willing to back down if it meant that he would be right. She would probably try to keep walking even if she was paralyzed as long as she wasn't agreeing with him.

He stood and watched her struggle back to her feet, the only thing he felt he could do. She took a few steps forward, wincing and giving him a furious look as if it was his fault that she was having so much trouble. Apparently taking his look of concern for a smug expression, or just offended that he had supposedly caught her in a moment of error, she threw up a hand in irritation. "Alright, I get it, I was wrong! We'll stop for the night."

He decided to give her the benefit of doubt, attributing her worse than usual attitude to exhaustion and hunger instead of taking offense to it. Braedon wasn't sure that he would have actually tried to defend himself under normal circumstances, even though he hadn't said or done anything to her. There was always something more important to concern himself with than a petty argument; finding a place to safely rest was always high on his list of importance.

The task of helping an irritable sorceress around uneven terrain was not an enjoyable one, but he of course did it without complaint, even though she was whining about how horrible he was right in his ear. They were both stumbling over branches and roots but he took the brunt of the troubles, drowning out her voice with prayers to the Goddess for guidance.

His legs were starting to feel like lead, and he was so worn down that he didn't even utter any thanks to the Goddess when they found a large tree with a hollow in it. Elora scrambled over the mess of roots first, using a very small fire spell to light the inside because the entrance was a bit narrow. "It's empty. No spiders or anything," she grunted, climbing inside. "It must have been used recently, usually there're spiders."

Braedon would have been surprised that she sounded so familiar with this, but Tara had told him, in confidence of course, that Elora had been sent to Lotus Marsh; though she hadn't made it that far, she had still spent some time in the outdoors. Still, until now he had never imagined her as the type of person capable of surviving in nature. His ears were still occasionally ringing from the shrieks of terror when they had come across a nest of spiders in Marion's Hall, and they hadn't even been monsters. If she had found a spider in the hollow, the entire tree would have been burning to the ground and taking the rest of the forest down with it.

There was barely enough room for either of them to lay down, and he had to swear on his life and many others that he would sleep facing away from her and keep his hands to himself; he wasn't sure why he had to make so many promises, when it was all said and done there was at least a foot of space between them and she had pressed her back against the opposite side of the tree trunk with her staff still in hand. Even if he had been tempted, which he wasn't, he was not foolish enough to try anything when she could easily cast a spell and kill or severely disfigure him.

Despite her misgivings in sleeping in the same place as him, Elora fell asleep with no trouble, giving into her exhaustion quickly. Braedon was just as exhausted, but he found that he was not finding sleep quite as easily. He hovered just on the edge, but it seemed that as soon as he was ready to finally fall asleep an animal would crack a branch, or he was sure he heard the clatter of a mask falling on the ground; when he heard Jacob's voice he had broken out into a cold sweat.

Finally having enough he sat up, bending one knee so he could rest his elbow there and prop his chin up with his fist. If he was going to be unable to sleep, he would at least keep watch. Almost on impulse he found his lips moving slightly in prayer even though he wasn't even aware of what he was praying for. He felt compelled to fill his head with prayer so it couldn't fill with anything else, drowning out sounds that he was sure he was imagining; his ears were ringing with nothing but memories that he couldn't drive away.

For the first time since he had pledged his life to serving the Goddess he was forced to admit that prayer was not helping. It made him furious. How many more ways and times could he be betrayed?

It seemed that in the space of a blink and a sigh the sun was rising, lighting the ground and the hollow. He carefully reached out and shook Elora's arm, and was silent as she grumbled and complained and used his shoulder to pull herself up to sit next to him. "You're lucky I wasn't comfortable. No more sleeping in hollow trees, agreed?"

She was already crouching towards the opening, grabbing the edges of the hollow to pull herself out. He followed suit. "Agreed."

"What are you mumbling about?" She looked at him, more focused on fixing her hair than listening. He didn't seem to hear her, and she rolled her eyes; she had better things to do than wonder what was wrong with him. As far as she was concerned he just wasn't much of a morning person, and that was fine by her since she wasn't one either; he could quietly trot along after her and she would be perfectly fine. After making a point of telling him as much, it was Elora's unanimous decision that she would lead the way to Crystal Stream.

If her feet were still sore she wasn't showing it, walking through the woods at a brisk pace until the trees had finally given way to a large clearing; true to its name, Crystal Stream had one stream cutting through the middle of the clearing. A large bridge had been made to allow people to reach Carderock Pass where they were headed, and from the looks of it someone was lurking behind a sign at their end of that bridge. Instinctively they both stopped, immediately assuming the worst of anyone trying to stay out of sight even if they were doing so poorly.

Braedon was the first to move forward, taking a few steps towards the bridge. "What are you doing?" When he didn't get an answer he continued heading towards the bridge, Elora following close behind. They were standing right next to the sign and the stranger, a man it seemed, still seemed determined to act as if he hadn't been caught. They did see that he wasn't wearing anything that they had seen the cultists wear, however.

"We can see you," Elora said irritably. "Everyone that walks by probably can!"

"Don't talk so loudly," he hissed, finally peering around the sign. "You must be the adventurers I was told about." They looked at him for a moment, obviously confused. The man floundered a bit when it was clear they didn't know what he was talking about. "Who are you?"

"I'm Braedon. May the—"

"I'm Elora," she said, quickly cutting off what was sure to be a long winded greeting. The man stepped around to the front of the sign, arms crossed and looking uncertain. She didn't really appreciate the scrutiny, especially since he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat that kept his eyes in shadow. "Shouldn't you return the courtesy…?"

"My name is Fergus." He tipped the hat back slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You're obviously adventurers, but you should both be a bit more quiet and conspicuous in times like thes. Don't you know that?" As if to prove his point, he had dropped his voice so low they were both leaning forward slightly to hear him.

"Would you stop trying to act so cool?" she whispered in reply. "No one is here but us right now."

"I'm sorry." True to being a cleric, he couldn't seem to finish a conversation without asking for forgiveness for at least one thing."Our adventure has been difficult so far. She doesn't mean to be so abrasive."

"Yes, I do." True to being a sorceress, she couldn't seem to finish a conversation without making someone upset. She tossed Cynthia's note at him, not even watching as it smacked him in the chest. "My business is in Carderock, not with a moron hiding behind a sign."

Braedon cleared his throat, both of them watching as she turned and stormed across the bridge. He knew better than to call her back and try to correct her poor excuse for manners, and instead turned his attention back to Fergus who was scrambling to pick up the paper that had hit him. "I was actually told to speak with you," he admitted sheepishly, handing him a scroll Thomas had given him before taking him out of the Divine Knights and sending him on his new mission.

"Strange alliance, between a sorceress and a cleric," he muttered, looking at him uncertainly. "Well either way, you should see Deckard immediately, this will certainly be a high priority for him," he muttered, tipping his hat low again once he had carefully returned the scroll and the note.

Braedon knew of no other way to thank him except to wish him all the blessings the Goddess had to offer him. He caught up to Elora in time to coerce her towards Deckard instead of the ticket booth she had been asking one of the guards about. He suspected it was so she could go to Saint's Haven and disappear but, it was almost as if his presence made her feel guilty enough to reconsider. It had barely been an argument.

"Oho! Fresh, new faces!" A burly man with a mustache was calling out to them from the bridge before they had even walked completely through the square. Disgruntled by all the attention that had drawn they approached with some reservations, despite the broad grin. "Always exciting to see new youths scrambling for adventure, isn't it? I'm Deckard. Are you looking to take a commission?"

"Commission?" she raised her eyebrows in interest, but her partner quickly interjected.

"We're looking for a girl with red-hair that was recently kidnapped. Have you heard anything about her?" he looked at the older man seriously and they both noticed that Deckard slowly surveyed the area before he would answer them.

"We received word from her hometown of Ironwood Village that she had been taken by monsters. We assumed that it was just a simple matter of rescuing the daughter of a village elder, but your arrival is making me reconsider that assumption! You are the second pair of adventurers to come asking about her."

"Second?" Braedon wondered if there was already foul play involved, but given that Deckard didn't seem to be concerned he hoped he was wrong.

"The first pair was from her hometown," Deckard answered. He did not seem to be looking forward to giving them anymore information, so Braedon handed over the scroll to him as well.

"Fergus informed me that this would be a high priority for you," he explained. They both watched him read, Elora attempting to read it as well since she hadn't even thought to read either of them since they had left Mana Ridge.

"From Mana Ridge, eh? And from the looks of this, you have brought the Adventurer's League quite a rip-roaring adventure! To think that all this fuss is over the prophet." He at least had enough sense to lower his voice before shouting that information across the town. "This must be grave news indeed if the Astral Coven and the Divine Order are working together."

"I'm no longer a part of the Divine Order," Braedon announced solemnly. Though it was obvious Deckard was curious, he did not pry into the reason.

"Every adventurer has his story," he mused. "You're still an odd pair, clearly. I'm sure quite a few people would get a kick out of seeing you working together. But let's stick to business, shall we? The first pair of adventurers arrived here about an hour before you in rough shape. Now that I know you're both working towards the same goal, I think it would be safe to send you in their place."

"Wait, I didn't agree to any of this yet." It seemed that despite resting for the night, a sorceress would always be prone to disagree with anything she heard. "If I'm going somewhere in anyone's place, I'm assuming it's dangerous and I want to be paid."

Despite the fact that the older man was laughing, her partner found himself once again mortified by her blatant extortion. "One of those adventurers, eh? No problem, we always have something for the money driven! Fergus discovered that we are hunting for a harpy called Red Gale. We can trick her into bringing the girl to us if we steal a harp from the dark elves in Assassin's Den."

Elora and Braedon looked at each other, both showing some hesitance to going to a place called Assassin's Den. Deckard reached out and clapped them both hard on the shoulder. "Don't look so worried! I don't think the dark elves will be able to get the best of a sorceress and a cleric."

Leaving with essentially nothing more than a pat on the head and a complementary potion, the two walked back to Crystal Stream in a tense silence. The only words they had exchanged since leaving Deckard was to confirm that neither of them had ever fought a dark elf. Assassin's Den seemed to be only another part of Crystal Stream, the sound of running water covering their footsteps.

Across the stream they could see tents and barricades but on either side of them were tall cliff walls. Braedon looked past the left and Elora looked past the right, making sure it would be safe to continue.

"Nothing."

"The path to the bridge is this way. It looks like there are kobolds here." She took a moment to chuckle before grabbing her staff and twirling it from her back to her side. He could already see how this was going to end up. "I can't believe they were worried about this place!"

"Elora, wait—" she Blinked out of his reach, disappearing in a flash of light. He did not have to look to know that when she reappeared she was up the path and running right through an opening in the barricades, ignoring the arrows soaring past her. It was the same during every mission.

Inevitably he would run after her, unable to watch her put her life at risk and do nothing about it. He could already hear her laughter from the bottom of the path. "Braedon, you're going to miss out if you don't hurry!"

This was the only time that he genuinely felt uncomfortable to be around her.

The path was littered with arrows that had missed their targets, the kobolds not being the best marksmen in existence, but that did not make him take the situation any less seriously; if he let his guard down one would certainly hit the mark, and he needed to be completely mobile to fight.

The closer he came to the top of the path, and the more clearly he could smell burning flesh and poison, the more he felt himself shut down. Everything began to happen on instinct, and not even the appearance of an orc had caught him off guard. He was hyperaware of the sounds around him—of Elora's voice and his own shouts—as he continuously smashed his mace into the wooden shield until it shattered.

The chill of ice reached him before Elora's voice did, and he slid to the side in time to see the orc take the brunt of the shard of ice, flying over the edge of the cliff and into the water below.

She always giggled when she Blinked past him. Casting spell after spell she was destroying nearly everything in her path; the bridge to the other side of the stream surviving was a miracle. She fought as if she was invincible, ignoring daggers, Braedon's lightning and her own bleeding wounds for the sake of luring enemies in close. Every time he was sure she was cornered, a powerful shockwave sent enemies flying, and she'd run up the path for a new fight.

He was left following a trail of fire and blood.

When he caught her she was plowing through poochums and kobolds with ice and poison and he was feeling the usual sense of urgency; her itching to eliminate everything in sight and him rushing to block all of the attacks that she was oblivious to. Every strike from an orc against his shield shook his entire frame and he had to keep his teeth gritted to stop himself from biting through his tongue. Each slash from a dagger threatened to break his concentration.

It was satisfying to watch them writhe on the ground once they were struck with lightning.

"Braedon."

He paused, turning to look at his battered team mate. It hadn't been until she had called his name that he realized he had been smashing in the face of an already dead orc; he used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face, taking a deep breath and sparing a glance at the bloody pulp at his feet.

"There's only one more place to look for the harp," she explained, nodding behind him. There was an island there surrounded by wooden barricades, connected to their piece of land only by a bridge. But his lack of rest from last night was starting to catch up to him and Elora definitely looked worse for wear, her hair starting to fall out of their buns and he knew that a good amount of the blood on her was her own.

She didn't seem to notice this herself, already hurrying down the path that would take her around to the bridge. He let out a heavy breath, calling after her. His voice was rough from yelling and he sounded exhausted. He wasn't surprised when she didn't stop or turn around, but he wished she would stop and think about what she was doing for once so he could have that same opportunity.

When he did catch up to her, which didn't take long, he was able to stop her before she went crashing through the barricade. "You're going to get yourself killed. I'll break through the barricade; you drink that potion Deckard gave us before you faint." He was already holding his shield in front of his face and blocking her path, so she didn't get much of a choice unless she intended to take him down as well.

Another deep breath and a moment to refocus, and he dashed forward his shield hitting the wood spikes and causing them to collapse. Over the loud bangs of wood falling to the ground they could hear someone screaming, so they rushed forward into a campsite. Three women were huddled together, cowering by a tent and Braedon immediately dropped his guard.

"Idiot!"

There were a lot of flashes of light after Elora yelled at him—some glinting off metal and others from spells—before Braedon found himself on his back struggling to keep sharp knives away from his face with the handle of his mace. His shield was blocking most of his field of vision, so he had to rely on his hearing to keep track of Elora, but he was aware that his heart was in his stomach, that the knives were actually attached to a hand, and that the hand belonged to a smiling woman.

He heard her tease him about how strong he was over his teammate's screams of pain and then all he could hear was his pulse and breathing. He kicked the dark elf in the stomach, allowing him the opening to roll out of the way and get back on his feet in time for Elora to crash into him. He dropped his mace, barely catching her and falling back into a barricade which creaked dangerously, threatening to give way and send them falling off the cliff on the other side.

Her nose was bleeding after being kicked in the face and there were shallow cuts on her chest that were from an attack she had barely Blinked away from. She was unconscious. His head was starting to spin. Using what little sense and energy he had left, he put himself and his shield between the elves and Elora though they were both collapsed on the ground.

He prayed for the Goddess's protection and aide, staring down the dark elf that was stalking her way towards them, her hips swaying all the while. He barely had time to take another breath as he watched blood spurt from her neck, an arrow lodged there. The threat gone, his body slumped in exhaustion, watching a blonde man with a sword rush into the campsite. He was quick and precise, and aided by well aimed arrows shot by a willowy elf who was slowly circling the perimeter to stand in front of them.

"Don't worry adventurer, we'll make sure you live to fight another day!" She smiled and knelt down in front of him, putting a hand on his shoulder while her teammate took care of the rest. Braedon was grateful, but he was glad that Elora was not awake to see him feel so humiliated.

As always, this story is also posted on my WordPress, where you'll find more chapters, bonus chapters, and some information about the characters!

Chapter 3 will be posted next Saturday!