Warning: Major Angst Approaching. Proceed with caution.

It just now occurred to me that I'm now over halfway done with this fic. I'm both proud of myself, and a little bit sad. I really enjoy writing out this story for y'all. I'm going to be sad when it ends.

But no matter! I still have lots of chapters of our favorite couple on standby! It's not over yet, folks!

Time for the reply corner!

Lily: Hehehe, they are my soft bois. You're welcome, by the way! As for Deimos, I think the word you are searching for is 'arrogant asshole'.

Guest: The confession is on it's way! Only a couple more chapters to go! Your review makes me so happy! Thank you for reading!

SnapeFan777: Welcome to the fic! I'm glad you're into it! Regular updates are on Saturdays. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Let the angst fest begin!

As the sun slowly sank underneath the trees, night fell over Xadia. The songbirds ceased their singing, giving the crickets and the frogs the nighttime air to sing their songs. In the valley of the Silvergrove, the elves who had been hard at work clearing out the burned wood of Ethari's forge all day finally returned to their homes. It seemed as if everyone in the whole of Xadia had fallen asleep.

Everyone, that is, except for a certain elf.

Runaan turned over in his bed, heaving a heavy sigh. He couldn't sleep. No matter how much he tried to lose his mind to the incoherent thoughts that preceded the first stages of sleep, he would take a breath, and then be thrust back into the memories of the hungry flames, the nostalgic sadness of the Blue Moon Festival gone wrong… and his worries of Ethari.

Shifting loudly onto his side, Runaan stared out his window at the twinkling stars. The now waning moon was shining its light through the glass, only fueling Runaan's restlessness. Grumbling, he pushed himself off of his bed and went to yank his drapes shut. Just as he gripped the thick, flowing fabric, however, he stilled.

The turmoil of emotions in his mind was becoming more and more chaotic with each passing minute. Worry, confusion, apprehension, and others Runaan couldn't even describe, let alone name. It swirled in his head in a never-ending tornado, not appearing to dissipate at any time soon. At its eye, in the center of his worries, was Ethari.

Runaan's hands dropped to his sides as he stared into the distance. Outside the window, he could see the tree branch balcony that extended from his study room. Even farther than that, the trees of the Moonshadow forest. The tree which he called his home was on the very outskirts of the village, far away from all the other homes. It was always quiet here. Runaan liked the quiet. He would wrap himself within the silence and be free to peacefully think his thoughts.

Tonight, however, the silence was a curse. Runaan's thoughts, which he normally welcomed, were too loud.

Ethari was not okay. Runaan knew this very well. He himself has told the lie 'I'm fine' countless times. He knew of its effects all too well. How many times had he told Lain he was okay when he had scratches all across his arms from training? How many times had he assured Tiadrin he was fine when his vision swam and his legs were one breath away from giving out?

Runaan sighed. He had been worked so hard in his training, he could be stabbed in the chest, be coughing up blood, and still insist he could stand and fight. That was the way he had been taught since he was old enough to swing a sword. When he and Deimos had first begun Runaan's swordfighting training.

"In battle," The memory of Deimos instructed Runaan's younger self, "you are to show no emotion at all. Showing emotion leads to showing fear. Fear is weakness. Any emotion is weakness, weakness that your enemies will exploit. Banish your fear away. Banish all of your emotions away. They will kill you in a battle. The only time you are to see fear is on the faces of your opponents as they kneel at your feet and beg for mercy. Do you understand, Runaan?"

"Yes, Deimos." Young Runaan replied. He barely stood above Deimos' elbows at the time, but he already knew the basic fundamentals of the art of swordplay.

"What are the most important parts of being an assassin, Runaan?" Deimos scrutinized Runaan's form, his dust gray eyes a cold weight on Runaan's shoulders.

"I am already dead." He responded, whirling his wooden practice sword. "Death is inevitable. Be it in battle or on a deathbed."

"Good. Next?"

"The keys to swordfighting are focus, patience, and resolve." Runaan slashed and stabbed as Deimos easily parried the attacks. "Focus on your every move, as well as the moves of your opponent. Wait for the perfect opening. Then, without hesitation, strike with all of your power."

"Good, good." Deimos purposefully left his right guard open, almost smirking when he saw Runaan's eyes flash. "And, most of important of all,"

"Show no emotion," they both stated the mantra as Runaan dragged the wood sword across the right side of Deimos' chest, right where one of the most important arteries was located. It would have killed him if the sword was real. "Show no fear."

Runaan shook his head furiously against the memories. He did not want to think about him. His lip curled in contempt. Deimos was the last person he would ever give any thought towards. He had already stolen so much from him. He would not let him take anymore of his mind.

Grabbing the drapes, Runaan yanked them closed. Instantly, his room was flooded with darkness. As he stood in the dark, Runaan felt dryness irritating his throat. Grumbling, he tip-toed across his room and opened his door. Keeping his footsteps quiet and light, as to not wake the elf sleeping below him, he descended down the winding steps to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

As he reached the last steps of his stairs and entered the hallway leading to the rest of his house, his eyes caught on the door to his guest room. He paused in confusion. It was open.

"Did Ethari…?" Moving as quietly as a mouse, Runaan slowly edged the door open, thanking his luck that he had recently oiled the hinges so they wouldn't squeal. Runaan had to take a minute to let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. When he was finally able to see into the room, Runaan's eyes widened at the tossed up blankets of the empty bed. Ethari wasn't there.

"Where is he?" Runaan's heart began to beat frantically in his chest. "He didn't leave, did he?" After a moment of pondering, Runaan shook his head. "No no, it's the middle of the night, of course he didn't leave… right?"

A noise made Runaan jump. His heart racing, Runaan turned towards his kitchen, where the sound had come from. Squinting, he tip-toed through the hall, careful to keep his breathing as quiet as he could, and slowly peered around the corner.

A shape sat at Runaan's table. After a moment of searching, Runaan recognized the shape of the figure's horns and messy white hair. Sighing and feeling quite stupid, Runaan straightened out, his shoulders relaxing.

"Of course," he thought, walking quietly into the room. "It's just Ethari." He almost laughed at himself. "He probably got hungry and came down to get something to eat."

The noise Runaan had heard suddenly sounded again. It was loud enough this time for Runaan to place it. It was a strange sound… not quite a breath, but much more harsh. After a moment of walking, Runaan realized that it was Ethari who was making the noise.

Ethari's back was to Runaan, his head in his hands, so he didn't see Runaan approach him from behind. Runaan, unaware that the other elf had no awareness of his presence, laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Ethari-"

"BLEEDING MOONSTRIDERS!" Ethari exclaimed loudly, leaping from his seat. Runaan's hand shot away from Ethari's shoulder like it burned him. Ethari whipped his head to the other elf, irritation flashing uncharacteristically in his eyes.

"You CAN'T just sneak up on me like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I am not in the mood for this right now!" He yelled, clutching the clothing over his chest as if to calm his racing heart. The dark circles underneath his eyes were even darker than before. His eyes were rimmed with red. Runaan realized with a pang that Ethari no longer looked like himself. He looked tired, irritated, and angry.

He looked like Deimos.

"I-I'm so sorry, I-" Runaan held up his hands, the angry expression on Ethari's face making his heart sting. "I didn't mean to scare you, I promise."

Ethari, after one more moment of glaring at Runaan, finally took in his hurt expression. His reddened eyes widened.

"Oh- I… I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…" Ethari stumbled over his words, before growling in frustration. Turning away from Runaan, he sat back in the chair and let his head fall to the table with a bang. "Agh! I'm such a…" He made a loud, incoherent noise, before he folded his arms over his head, sighing heavily.

Runaan stood behind him. His heart twisted as he gazed at Ethari's hunched body. His previous surprise and hurt at Ethari's biting words vanished. It was swiftly replaced by a deep sadness. It was awful just so see Ethari like this. It was so wrong. Everything about the situation they were in was wrong. And Runaan had no clue how to make it right again.

But, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

Setting his jaw, Runaan walked to Ethari's side. Pulling out an empty chair, he sat in front of Ethari. Leaning his head around, he gently nudged Ethari's arm.

"I really am sorry about scaring you. I'm not used to… um… talking to other people this late into the night alone." Runaan's spirits lifted a little when Ethari raised his head, his brown irises meeting Runaan's turquoise ones. "It was my fault entirely. You don't have to feel bad about reacting the way you did."

Ethari chuckled dryly. "It's fine. You said sorry, I said sorry. We're even."

"Ah, um, right."

That sat in silence. Ethari rested his chin on his arms, staring blankly into the void. Runaan had to resist the urge to drum his fingers on the table. The awkwardness between them was at levels that hadn't been reached since Runaan complemented Ethari when he, Tiadrin, and Lain had all visited him. Runaan sighed. That seemed so long ago. As he swallowed past the lump in his throat, he remembered the reason he came downstairs in the first place.

"Would you like some water?" Runaan asked Ethari, already standing up and walking to his cabinets, opening them and taking out two wooden cups.

Ethari sighed. "Sure."

Even though the answer was more monotone than Deimos' lectures on proper battle stances, Runaan was happy that he was still taking care of himself, despite his emotional state. Grabbing the insulated jug of water he kept in his pantry, he poured himself an Ethari each a cup of cool water.

"Were you, uh, were you about to get something to eat?" Runaan asked Ethari as he sat down in front of him, sliding his cup towards him. Runaan sipped at his own water, looking at Ethari expectantly.

Ethari eyes the water for a minute. Sighing yet again, he picked up the cup and brought it to his lips.

"I was." Ethari answered him, setting the cup back down after barely a sip. "None of the fruit appealed to me, though. Not that I don't like the fruits. They're delicious. I just have no appetite." Ethari noticed Runaan's glance. He waved his hand, as if he was attempting to wave off Runaan's worry. "Don't concern yourself with me, Runaan. I'll be alright. I'm fine."

Runaan was quiet. There it was again. 'I'm fine'. He said it, but Runaan knew the truth. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Staring at the reflection of his eyes in his half empty cup of water, Runaan exhaled forcefully, setting the cup down. He had to say something. He couldn't let Ethari go on like this.

No. He wouldn't let Ethari go on like this.

"No you're not." Runaan stated. He held Ethari's gaze as he glanced up, surprise in his eyes.

After searching Runaan's face, Ethari frowned. "Runaan, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Runaan repeated.

Ethari exhaled irritably through his nose. "Runaan, I know you mean well, but I am not in the mood for this. I really don't want to argue with you right now."

"There's no argument to be had, Ethari," Runaan leaned forward in his chair. "It's very clear to me. You are not fine."

Ethari's patience snapped. "Well what would you know about how I feel?!" He clenched his hands into fists. "My parents, who I barely remember, who had to leave me behind because their duties were too great, are dead! My grandparents, the only people who ever cared about me, are dead! I've just had the last remnants of my family burnt to the ground! You can't possibly understand how that feels!"

A beat of silence past. Runaan's face was blank. Ethari panted, his brown eyes bright with anger. However, as Ethari's words hung in the nighttime air, Ethari's hand shot to his mouth.

"Oh… oh Runaan, I…" the rest of Ethari's sentence vanished, strangled in his throat. He clenched his teeth as memories surfaced from his mind.

"I never knew my parents," Runaan explained to Ethari as he watched him draw out the designs for his sword hilt on the wood he would be carving it from. "My mother died after giving birth to me. My father became so anguished and broken without her, he left on a mission everyone knew he would not return from. And he never did."

"Oh…" Ethari glanced to Runaan, sadness filling his gaze. "That's awful."

"Yeah." It didn't escape Ethari's notice how little emotion was in the other elf's voice.

"Who… who took care of you?"

"I was taken care of by many other couples throughout the Silvergrove. I would move from home to home, living and learning from the elves who took care of me. It wasn't hard for me, or anything." After a moment of pause, Runaan sighed.

"I sometimes can't help but wonder, though," He contemplated, "what my life would have been like if they had lived."

It felt as if Ethari's spirit was being slowly crushed by the weight of his guilt and regret. Runaan had never known the love of his parents. He had been moved from one family to another, never truly understanding what it felt like to be loved. And here Ethari was, yelling at him like his suffering didn't even exist.

"I'm a failure," Ethari despaired. The massive hole in his heart felt as if it was suffocating him. "I am such a lowly, inconsiderate failure. How could I let myself fall this far? How could I have let this happen?! I'm… I'm so pathetic! Pathetic! I'm… I'm…"

"You're right."

Ethari blinked at Runaan. Runaan met his red-rimmed eyes evenly. Ethari, after a moment of gaping at him, swallowed harshly.

"H-huh?"

"You're right." Runaan locked eyes with Ethari. "I don't understand. I don't understand, because you're not being honest about how you're really feeling."

Leaning towards Ethari, he moved until he was nose-to-nose with him. Strangely, Runaan didn't feel uncomfortable by the closeness.

"You are not fine. You're lying to me, and you're lying to yourself. You are not fine." Runaan took Ethari's hand in his own, a pleading look in his eyes. "You need to let go, Ethari. You can't just bottle your emotions inside you. It's going to break you apart."

Ethari's lip trembled. "B… but I…"

"Please," He begged, "I know how much this is hurting you. I can see it. You're shaking, you're tired, and you're trying to win a battle that will only do you more harm." Ethari bit his lip, looking down. He… he can't. He doesn't want to face it. The pain… the truth… it was all too much.

Runaan, with a gentleness not even the stars could match, held a finger underneath Ethari's chin and slowly lifted his face up.

"Believe me," Runaan's face held a sorrow that made Ethari's eyes widen. "I know."

That was all it took. Finally, Ethari let his walls fall down.

Ethari wrapped his arms around Runaan as tightly as he could. His breath hitched painfully, and he finally began to cry. Runaan was quiet as Ethari sobbed onto his shoulder, leaning his head against Ethari's. He closed his eyes, hugging Ethari in a firm embrace. Hearing Ethari cry, Runaan felt tears of his own prick his eyes. He shut his eyelids firmly. The only person who was allowed to cry was Ethari. Ethari was the one who had gone through so much. Runaan sighed through his teeth, burying his face in the folds of Ethari's scarf.

"I-it just hurts!" Ethari stuttered between sobs. "It hurts so badly! I thought I could h-hold it together, but I c-can't!"

"It's okay," Runaan whispered, gently rocking him back and forth. "It's okay."

"I wanted t-to try to keep it together," Ethari bit his lip. "Th-that's what we're supposed to do! Moonshadow elves can't be weak like I am! I wanted to be strong, but…"

"You're not weak." Runaan told him firmly, hugging him tighter. "Feeling the pain you're feeling right now is not weakness." Ethari sniffled, his breath broken up with his tears.

"I m-made a promise," Ethari fell limp in Runaan's arms. "I promised them… my grandparents… the day before they died, I promised I would look after the forge. I promised I would take care of it. And I… I…" Ethari shut his eyes tightly. "This is all my fault! I failed! I failed them! I… I…"

"No." Runaan had such finality in his voice, Ethari blinked his eyes open. His lip trembled as he tried to breath normally.

"H-huh?"

"The fire was not your fault." There was no doubt in the words Runaan spoke. "It was a tragic accident. You had no idea this would happen. It's not your fault." Runaan's grip around Ethari tightened. "You are not a failure."

He had never done any kind of comfort of this magnitude, but strangely, it didn't feel new. It felt… natural. Runaan brought his hand up to Ethari's head, tangling his fingers in his hair. He brought Ethari's face out and looked him in his eyes.

"You are not weak. You've gone through so much hardship, so much pain and so much suffering, yet you still push through. You live through every day, no matter how much it hurts. That is true strength."

Ethari blinked, sending more tears down his cheeks. "I… I…"

"Don't even try to say otherwise," Runaan narrowed his eyes at him. "You are strong. You are strong in the most important ways. Don't let anything ever convince you otherwise."

Ethari stared at Runaan's face. His lower lip trembled slightly. Runaan's words struck a chord in Ethari's soul. They rekindled a fire in Ethari's heart that had been reduced to a stuttering pile of cinders. Though it was still weak, the flame would, as Runaan had said, live on.

Ethari laughed. Runaan watched with wonder as he laughed, tears still pouring down his face. It wasn't a laugh of joy or sorrow. It was a laugh of something else. A deep, cleansing laugh. Runaan's spirits lifted as he could practically feel the negative feelings Ethari had been holding in flow out of his body.

"You must think I'm such a mess." Ethari chucked, wiping his cheeks.

"We're all a mess." Runaan squeezed Ethari's hand. "This isn't something that we can easily walk away from. It will take time, and it will take work. Lots of it."

"Work…" Ethari nodded. "That… I can do." After a minute of silence, he chuckled. "All those lessons of endurance won't go to waste after all."

Runaan shook his head, an exasperated smirk on his face. He put another hand on Ethari's shoulder, looking him in his beautiful brown eyes.

"You may not be okay now," He told him, "but you will be. You're going to make it through this, Ethari. You're strong."

Ethari smiled a little. "You… you really believe that?"

Runaan, seeing the hope in Ethari's eyes slowly return, nodded. "Yes." He wrapped Ethari in another hug. "I know you'll be okay."

Ethari smiled, and he gratefully returned Runaan's embrace.

Whizzzzzzzzzzzz-thunk!

Runaan clicked his tongue as his arrow found its mark in the center of his well-worn target, placed over eighty yards away from where he was standing. Sighing, he ran across the training field to retrieve the arrow.

Training wasn't enough to keep the thoughts that occupied his head away. He was already so skilled, every arrow he loosed was so precise, it could split a hair that was being blown in a windstorm. Still, he did his best to push the thoughts as far back in his mind that they would go, focusing instead on refining his skills until he could be blindfolded and spun ten times in a field and still shoot a perfect bull's eye on a target fifty yards away.

In one yank, Runaan pulled the arrow from the target. Wood splinters came off with it, falling off the tip onto the ground. Runaan stared at them as they lay in the grass. "Need a new practice target." He mused absently, trudging back to the end of the field for another round. "Maybe I'll shoot from a hundred yards this time. That'll give me something to work towards."

As he took his position about a hundred yards from the target, the wind suddenly picked up from almost nothing to a moderate breeze. "Ah. That's a challenge." Runaan took aim at the target, then factored in the wind. Aiming his arrow in accordance with the wind, he waited, breathing deeply as the tension in his fingers grew stronger and stronger.

"Ready… ready…"

"Hey, Runaan!"

Runaan jerked, the cord snapping painfully across his fingers as the arrow shot directly into the ground only twenty yards away. Sucking a breath through his teeth as his fingertips throbbed and stung, he shot a heated glare at Tiadrin and Lain, who were making their way over to him at a brisk pace.

"What have I told you time and time again, Tiadrin?!" Runaan waved his hand in the wind, the cool air lessening the stinging heat on the pads of his fingers.

Tiadrin abruptly stopped, her eyes resting on the bow he had in his hand. "Oh! Sorry, Runaan! Were you practicing?"

Runaan fixed her with an unbelieving look. "No, I was just in my training field holding my bow out because I felt like it." He said sarcastically. Tiadrin frowned at him, but didn't rebuke. She quietly watched him as he ran to retrieve the arrow, swearing under his breath as the pain in his fingertips finally began to ebb. Pulling the arrow from the ground, wiping the damp earth from the tip, and ran back to meet up with his waiting friends.

"You seriously couldn't have waited until after I shot?" Runaan asked her. Tiadrin rolled her eyes in good nature.

"Not really. It's not like you don't practice for endless hours a week. But hey, we all need to yell sometimes." She crossed her arms, huffing.

"Sorry about that, Runaan." Lain sighed as he apologized for his girlfriend. "We've been looking for an opportunity to catch you alone. How are you?"

Runaan shrugged. "As well as I normally am." It was true. He was feeling more like himself today, despite his intrusive thoughts.

"How's Ethari? Is he feeling alright?" Tiadrin added. They both looked at Runaan expectantly. Sighing, Runaan combed his fingers through his hair. So that was the true reason behind their visit.

"He's doing… better." Runaan pursed his lips, worry clouding his eyes, before shaking his head to rid himself of it. "I can't say for sure, but… I would like to think he's making progress."

It had only been two days since the Blue Moon festival, but it had seemed like two eternities. After that night when Ethari had broken down in Runaan's arms, he had woken up looking refreshed. Lighter. Crying out all of his feelings onto Runaan's shoulder had cleansed him, like how one rinses out a dirty pot. It would take time, but Ethari was slowly regaining his former cheer.

He had spent most of yesterday finishing up with the weapons he had salvaged from what was left of his forge, using one of the minor forges in the village. When he had returned to Runaan's house as twilight fell on the Silvergrove, he was tired, but content. Working had cleared his head of his poisonous thoughts, and had left him hungry enough to eat Runaan's vegetable soup (which wasn't half bad despite Runaan's warnings, and he spent most of the dinner insisting to Runaan he liked it). He had two helpings of the soup, which brought a smile onto Runaan's face. After yawning goodnight to Runaan, Ethari crashed onto the bed and slept like a rock. Runaan discovered, after checking on him before he went to bed himself, that Ethari had a light snore. He had to cover his mouth to smother his breathy laughter. It was simply too cute.

That morning, Ethari had woken with a smile. He had an air about him that made Runaan think something good was about to happen. When he had inquired about it, however, Ethari told him that he simply was looking forward to his work. Runaan could sense that that wasn't the whole truth, but he was too happy about Ethari's returned optimism to care. When he bid Ethari well, he had gone to the fields to train his archery skills. And here he was now, speaking to Tiadrin and Lain.

"That's good to hear." Lain said, relieved. "We've been very worried for him. He loved his forge very dearly, and to lose it all…" He shook his head sadly. "I can't even imagine what that must feel like."

Runaan nodded in sympathy. The trio had never really experienced real pain in their lives. Tiadrin and Lain both grew up with loving parents, who still resided happily within the village. Though Runaan's parents were both dead, he had never felt uncared for. The many couples in the Silvergrove took it upon themselves to raise him. He had moved from home to home, listening to stories and learning about his culture.

Of course, he wouldn't change a thing about his past. But, when it came to understanding Ethari… In a way, he almost wished he could have a deeper understanding of him.

"And for the forge to even catch fire in the first place… How could that have even happened?" Tiadrin wondered. She put her hands on her hips, pouting. "Ethari is such a pure soul. He's so kind and honest with everyone he meets. Why would the universe think he was deserving of this kind of suffering?"

"It's not a matter of deserving, Tiadrin." Runaan put out. "It's not as if fate decided to cause the fire. It was a horrible, horrible accident." Runaan was not one who believed in higher powers. Be it luck, fate, or some other superstition, none of it impacted Runaan. He was one who knew that only the choices they make would shape the future. And sometimes, things happened. It was beyond their control.

It was simply an accident.

"Unless…" Tiadrin muttered, her eyes wide, "it… wasn't an accident."

Runaan stilled. He slowly turned to Tiadrin, a shadow over his eyes. "What."

Tiadrin, her sky blue eyes flicking wildly, began pacing back and forth. "Okay okay, hear me out. There is no possible way that the fire started by accident." She spoke so fast, Runaan and Lain had to struggle to keep up. "Ethari isn't careless. He always thoroughly puts out every fire he uses for forging. And he had no candles; only windows and light flowers. It doesn't make sense that it was an open flame accident."

Runaan's feet rooted to the ground. His hand went slack, his bow clattering as it hit the ground, along with the arrow. His eyes were wide as Tiadrin's words sank in.

"Tiadrin," Lain's voice sounded shaky, "I get what you're saying, but what you're implying is…" He raked a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "No. There is no way."

"Yes, there is," She argued. "There is no possible explanation that it happened by accident. It couldn't have been the storm, because there was no lightning until after the storm broke, which was after the forge caught fire. It couldn't have been some freak accident with some flammable substance, because even a blacksmith with half a brain would never keep something flammable in a forge, let alone where it could catch fire!"

"What about Selena?" Lain put out. "She was in the forge when the fire started. She could have been messing around with something."

"Are you mad?!" Runaan exclaimed. The very notion that a sweet soul like Selena would set fire to Ethari's forge made his blood heat. "Selena isn't some brainless cat! She's a highly intelligent werecat, and she would never do anything that would hurt Ethari!"

"Besides," Tiadrin added, "even if she did start the fire, she wouldn't have been trapped by that burning plank. She would have seen the fire starting, and would have escaped long before it got out of control." She folded her hands in front of her mouth in deep concentration. Lain exchanged a fearful glance with Runaan, whose gaze was tight with focus as well.

"It would have to have been someone with a reason to dislike Ethari. Whether it be jealousy, a long time grudge, or the like," Tiadrin's eyebrows knit as the gears in her head turned. "Someone with an extensive bad history with Ethari."

"Tiadrin…"

If Tiadrin heard him, she gave no indication. She continued her thoughtful pacing. "Someone who knew exactly how and where to set the fire, so it would consume all the most important parts of the forge,"

"Tiadrin…"

"Someone with an unquestionable authority, who is deeply respected and would never even be considered a suspect in this type of crime,"

"Tiadrin…"

"Someone who knew just how much the forge meant to Ethari, and knew exactly what would break his heart." She turned to Lain. "What were you trying to say…" She followed his horrified gaze, and she stiffened when her eyes landed on Runaan.

Runaan's hands were clenched in fists so tight, his fingernails would have been driven deep into his palms if it wasn't for his gloves. His breathing was fast and shallow. But what made Tiadrin and Lain both back away in fear was his eyes.

Rage. But not just any rage. This flaming anger was fueled by an emotion Runaan rarely ever expressed: hate. Twin turquoise fires of hatred.

"R… Runaan…?" Tiadrin whispered.

"I know." The tone of his voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Wh-what…?"

"I know." He snatched up his bow and shouldered it angrily, his eyes flashing like those of three-eyed nightfoxes, who after hours of tracking, finally found their prey. "I know exactly who would do it."

Without another word of explanation, Runaan left the training field. The thoughts and worries in his mind were now finally gone. But, they had been replaced with something much, much worse. An icy certainty, surrounded by the burning fire of hatred.

Runaan moved through the village with purpose. Rage burned white-hot through his entire being, making his turquoise irises pulse with hate. Any elf who happened to catch sight of him quickly glanced away. Even from a distance, they could sense the heavy aura of anger around Runaan. They didn't speak. They just simply let him pass, going about their business as usual, unaware of the true reason behind the boy's rage.

Unaware of the events that would forever change the lives of those in the Silvergrove.

"All this time," Runaan seethed, "ALL this time, you've been watching. Planning. Waiting for the right time so that you could carry out your bidding with no suspicion." Runaan tilted his head in the direction of the distant sword clashing that sounded to his left. He quickly turned and followed them. "You've always had it out for him. Ever since he broke away from you. But you had no excuse to do this. Not until I came into the picture." Runaan's heart was a piece of boiling steel. "You… you MONSTER."

Feet pounding the earth as he reached where the clashing noises were coming from. Slowing to a stop, Runaan's veins flooded with ice as his assumptions were confirmed. Banishing all emotion from his face, Runaan's eyes turned as cold as glaciers. Mouth pressed in a hard line, Runaan stalked to the figure that stood in the sandy training field. Where Runaan's and Ethari's fates were tied when Runaan's first sword became ruined. Where he had stood, unknowingly, with the person who would destroy the life of the one Runaan loved.

"YOU."

HA HA HA HA HA! You thought I would be satisfied with just ONE cliffhanger in my fic?! NOPE! WE GOT CLIFFHANGERS GALORE OVER HERE! COME GET 'EM WHILE THEY'RE HOT!

In all honesty, though… I think we all know where this is going.

Be prepared for the next chapter! The confrontation! The drama! I want to say more but I probably shouldn't because I don't want to spoil my own fic!

Anyway, I hope y'all have a nice week, and eat lots of good food on Thanksgiving if you celebrate it! If you don't, well, enjoy lots of good food anyway! You deserve it! :D

See y'all next week!

~TheMistDragon