Josmael flew through the woodlands near Markham. Delighted with the chase, he growled and huffed as he closed in on the golden hart.
Danyla bugled and dashed to the left to dodge her carnivorous brother.
The massive grey wolf scrambled to get back on course, leaves scattering into the air in a full arch.
Mithra tucked a loose strand of snowy hair behind her ear and looked up from her map with a smile. Those crazy kids. Always up for a game.
A broad, grey muzzle nonchalantly nipped at the map.
While stroking the face of the gentle, ashen hart, Mithra asked, "Where should we go, Sulara? We've been nearly everywhere already."
Sulara's muzzle wiggled and danced over the coastline to the east.
Mithra focused on the area the old hart was pointing out. "Wycome?" Her eyes shifted. "Yeah, why not? We haven't been to that area in a few years." She kissed her velveteen nose and smiled. "Always guiding me. Ma serannas, Sweet One."
Groaning happily, Josmael sprinted up and flopped at Mithra's knees. While Sulara jerked her head up and snorted, he gave Mithra a huge wolfy smile, then chirped and crawled into her lap.
Mithra laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck while scratching his shoulder. "My big, sweet boy."
He groaned and rolled, then pressed a massive paw to her scarred cheek, squishing her face upward.
"You giant goofball." Her hand moved to his ribs, where she scratched until he groaned softly and kicked his hind leg.
He sneezed into the air twice and rolled back out of her hold, then flopped backward to look up at her joyously.
Mithra lifted a brow and smirked. "My point, exactly." She sighed and lifted herself from the leaves. "Come on. We should get moving."
Nearly a week later, Mithra rode northeast at a relaxed pace upon the back of Danyla. Sulara followed close behind, carrying her packs.
No sooner than they forded the hip-deep river near Wycome, the squawking of crows filled the air, and Mithra's eyes went wide.
While a war horn's cry rent the air, waves of Templars poured out of the woods.
Mithra clutched the white cylinder around her neck and drew in a slow breath. There were far too many to fight.
A fireball flashed by, just missing her face. "Mages too!? Shit!"
With a kiss and squeeze of her leg, Mithra urged Danyla to move.
While they charged through the growing clamor of the battlefield, Mithra yelled, "Josas, Sulara! Josmael!? Where are you?! We have to go!" When she raised it to her lips, wolf song rang from her necklace.
When a flaming branch crackled and fell, the hart below her abruptly stopped and reared.
Mithra crashed upon the forest floor, rolled to her feet, and drew the staff from her back. "Get out!"
As Danyla scrambled away, Mithra turned a templar's blade to the ground and jabbed a second man behind her in the face. She spun and twirled her staff to hit the first upside the head then jabbed another in the gut as he charged in. She drew a dagger from the small of her back when one bellowed and rushed her from the left. She turned and whipped the staff at his ankle, then lept upon him when he fell and pierced his belly with a vicious twist.
Wide-eyed and panting, Mithra looked up. This was the worst place in the world to be. Mages and Templars were absolutely ruthless toward each other in battle and didn't give a fuck who got caught in the middle. Besides-
Mithra blew a calming breath. She couldn't think about that now. She dashed through the leaves as fast as she could toward the treeline. If she could just reach it, she could-
White spots flashed in her vision as searing pain coursed through her left shoulder. She hit the ground screaming and dragged herself toward the trees, kicking, clawing, and growling as she scrambled out of the clearing. If she was to have any chance, she had to hide.
Roughly a dozen Dalish hunters appeared at the treeline and took aim into the battlefield.
Mithra stopped and gaped up at them. This could be very bad.
"Ghi'myelan'en!" The leader drew his bow and took aim. "Boraaaan!"
Arrows whistled over Mithra as she pressed her forehead to the cool earth. Oh, fuck.. At least they weren't shooting her.
"Come on!"
Mithra looked up to see the leader reaching for her. He was going to help? She sucked in a breath and winced as she resumed her crawl.
With his hand stretched toward Mithra, he looked back at the hunters. "Keep firing! Show them no mercy!" He looked back to her and inched his way forward. Once in reach, he snagged her hand and hauled her past the line of hunters. "It's okay. Let me look at that wound."
Panting and woozy, Mithra sat and leaned forward. She gritted her teeth and hissed when his fingers brushed the edge of the puncture.
"We'll get you to the keeper. She can help. Can you walk?"
Mithra shook her head. "I don't know. Not exactly fee-" Her eyelids fluttered, and she took a deep breath. "Feeling well." She blinked hard and narrowed her eyes. As unpleasant as it was, she had to stay awake.
He took her chin and turned her to look into his piercing blue eyes. "Everything will be alright. I'm Roshan."
She wiped the sweat from her brow and breathed, "Enaste.. Mithra." She swallowed hard and blew out her pain.
Roshan looked to the line of archers. "Emmaera! Let's get her to the keeper quickly. She's not looking well." He pulled Mithra's right arm over his neck, and they both stumbled when her trembling knees refused to support her.
Mithra mumbled, "Ir abelas," and shook her head.
"It's alright," he said as he swept her legs into his other arm and carried her toward camp. He turned back to the hunters and shouted, "Garaan, ghi'myelan'en! That should be enough!"
Deshanna's eyes widened at the white-haired woman cradled in Roshan's arms. Who was this? Where did she come from?
Emmaera rushed toward her. "Keeper Deshanna! We killed most of the felasil'en near the camp. The rest retreated as we left." She turned and gestured to the young Elvhen woman as Roshan set her on a table. "We found her at the edge of their battleground. She took an arrow to the shoulder. It's deep."
Deshanna approached the stranger. Her hand faltered near the young woman's face as her eyes drifted to the item around her neck. Ghilan'nain'es enaste. Was she-?
"Her name is Mithra," Roshan informed the keeper while running his fingers through his thick brown hair.
"Enaste," Mithra croaked and grimaced while looking up at her.
Deshanna noted the pain in her eyes and shook off her shock. She moved to examine the arrow in the girl's shoulder and pushed Mithra's long, thick braid aside. It was deep. To pull it would cause more damage and a lot of pain. "We'll have to push it the rest of the way through, then cut it, Da'len."
Trembling under the keeper's gentle touch, Mithra nodded rapidly.
Emmaera brushed her auburn curls out of her face and presented a leather-wrapped stick to her. "Bite down on this."
A few hours later, Mithra wandered down to the nearby pond and sat on an old, fallen tree and simply basked in the scent of damp soil and fertile greenery. What a day. Caught in a Mage-Templar battle, saved by the Dalish, of all people, and getting run through with an arrow to top it all off. All this bad luck had to come with some good, right?
She fondled the token around her neck. Or maybe she'd used all the luck allotted to her in life. How many times had she cheated death now?
"It is good to see you move around, Da'len. How are you feeling?"
Mithra smiled over her shoulder at Keeper Deshanna. "Much better. Yourself?"
"Always well. Thank you for asking." The keeper sat next to her, and politely began, "The hunters are curious about you, Da'len."
Mithra folded her hands in her lap. "What would they like to know, Keeper?"
"They wonder where you hail from. You are an adult and have been raised Dalish, judging by your manners and dress, but you bear no vallas'lin."
Mithra nodded. "That's a fair question. I was born in the Brecillian Forest of Ferelden. When I turned eight, my older sister's magic manifested, and she was cast out. She was all I truly had, so I went with her."
"That does explain much. Have you two always been alone in the world, Da'len? How have you survived all your years?"
This question was harder to answer without coming to tears, but Mithra choked down the lump in her throat and responded, "No.. We survived for a few years on our own. We encountered a clan on their way north at the onset of the Blight. We lived with them for a couple of years, training under their craft master, hunting with them, and so forth," her voice cracked, and she breathed deeply, resisting the heat in her eyes.
The keeper took a long pause before asking, "Did they cast you out as well, Da'len?"
"No." Mithra smiled sadly. "They wanted to bring us into the clan. But an accident claimed my sister's life, and I couldn't bring myself to stay with the clan that loved us both. I stayed for a time, hoping my heart would allow me to accept their offer, but I just.." She trailed off, unable to continue. Tears balanced in her eyes as she wrung her hands, chewed her lip, and sniffed.
Deshanna rubbed Mithra's back with a soft smile on her lips. "I think I understand, Da'len. Thank you for your indulgence. It should satisfy the curious."
Just as the elder lifted herself from the decaying log, Mithra said, "Umm, Keeper Deshanna... There's one thing I wanted to ask you."
The keeper paused and settled back on her seat.
"Despite not being with a clan, I do have companions. Three of them."
Deshanna looked curious and a little wary then.
"I'm what some call a ranger. Two harts accompany me; mother and daughter," she explained.
Deshanna's eyes widened slightly, and she gently prodded, "And the third?"
Mithra chewed her lip before answering, "A wolf."
Deshanna sat straight then, a bit of fear coming across her face like clouds drifting over the plains.
"He's very well behaved and listens to me without question," Mithra offered quickly, hoping to diffuse her growing fear.
Keeper Deshanna eyed the young woman next to her uncertainly.
Mithra could read the elder's expression like a book. "I won't call him then. I see the thought makes you uncomfortable. May I call my harts for my supplies, however? I could use something to keep my hands busy while I recover."
The keeper nodded her permission, then asked in a sort of hesitant wonder, "May I watch?"
She nodded once with a faint smile, fondled the cylindrical necklace resting against her chest, raised it to her lips, and sounded her call. A hart's bugle spread across the surrounding forest, and a faint tingle of magic hung in the air like a thin fog.
They waited and listened. Mithra's call was answered only a moment later. The girls were on their way.
Oh, there she was, the ranger he'd overheard the keeper talking about with Ellana. Excitement bubbled up in Mihren's chest as his feet carried him toward the fire. He couldn't believe this! A real ranger, here in camp. What would she be like? He bet she had fantastic stories to tell.
When Mihren plopped down on a log beside the fire and smiled, Mithra's violet eyes flashed up at him from her carving.
She looked back to her work and said, "Hey."
Mihren's brow knit. Hey? That was underwhelming. He pushed his disappointment aside. He hadn't even said anything to her yet; of course it was a weird start. He offered her a friendly grin. "How's your shoulder?"
She looked to it as her mouth twitched on one side. "A little stiff, but your keeper is a fine healer. It'll mend soon enough." She looked to him again and dropped her hands in her lap. "Can I help with something?"
He rubbed his fingertips together. "I'm just curious. The keeper says you're ghi'falon. Is it true?"
A corner of Mithra's mouth lifted. "Yeah, I am."
He drew in a breath, and his face lit up as he jumped to his feet. "That is so cool! What beasts can you summon? Is there a time limit? What do you ask them to do? How'd you get that big scar on your cheek? Have you ever met-"
"Mihren!"
Uh oh. The keeper. He knew that tone.
Deshanna strolled toward them. "It's impolite to ask so many questions at once, Da'len."
Mihren sighed and looked to the fire. "Ir abelas, Keeper. I'm only-"
"Excited," Mithra finished for him and gestured to a nearby pine. She looked to Keeper Deshanna. "It's alright." When a crow landed on her shoulder, she took the pinecone it carried. "Ma serannas, falon."
Mihren gaped at the bird and asked, "Is that crow your ghi'vas?"
The glare Mithra gave him sent chills down his spine, and his mouth fell open slightly. What did he say?
She spat, "Ghi'vas... Is that what you call it?" She gestured to the bird on her shoulder and growled, "No, this is not my slave, and neither is my ghi'saota, if you must have a word for it."
Mihren scratched his head. "I-I meant no disrespect. Ir abelas. I thought-"
Mithra sighed, and her voice softened while she pried the cone open. "It's okay... I know how it seems, but he has his own will, as does this crow. Josmael is my closest companion. He's followed me since he was a pup."
"A pup?" He tugged at the keeper's sleeve. "A wolf?" His face sagged when he looked to his keeper's wisened, fearful face. She wasn't going to let him enter the camp, was she?
"Please, Keeper," he begged. "Let me meet him? Hahren Dhearas says The Emerald Knights used to keep wolves. He's her ghi'saota, besides. He's a creature of legend."
"I know the legends, Da'len." Deshanna heaved a sigh. "I must speak with the clan before a decision can be made."
The next morning, Mithra shifted from foot to foot while listening to the keeper speak to the clan about her wolf companion. When the clan nodded their agreement to meet the beast, she stepped forward. "Josmael is-" Mithra shook her hands at her sides and sighed. Could they not stare?
Mithra cleared her throat and squeezed one hand in the other. "Josmael is very protective, but he can be as gentle as a halla if treated with respect. Please keep your weapons out of your hands. If he feels like one of us is threatened, he will respond in kind. I don't want anyone to get hurt, least of all him."
The crowd shifted and exchanged glances, but nodded their agreement once more.
Mithra fondled the white cylinder that hung from her neck. "Okay... I'm going to summon him." She turned and raised the token to her lips, then put out a powerful, ringing howl.
Josmael's ears shot up as his head rose from the leafy forest floor. She was calling him? He jumped to his feet and spun in tight circles. He had missed her so much!
The wolf raced toward her signal, the forest flying around him as he answered, "On my way!" His legs felt light as he dashed through the brush and swung around trees.
A second call communicated, "Approach carefully. We have nervous company, but they're friendly."
Josmael replied, "Right! I'll try not to "frighten" anyone."
He continued at his blazing pace for a minute more before easing down to a lope, then to a cautious walk. When he peeked around the next tree, he spied Mithra and smiled his wolfy grin; tongue lolling out the side of his maw.
She turned to the crowd and said, "He's here. Please remain calm," and beckoned to him with an outstretched hand.
Josmael's tail wagged rapidly as he bounded up to her and pressed his shoulder into her chest. He whined while she hugged him and buried her face in the side of his neck. The great wolf twisted his head around and licked the side of her face. She was okay, so everything was alright now.
"I'm sorry I didn't return your howls, Isa'ma'sal."
As soon as she lifted her head, he lapped at her nose.
She ruffled his cheeks and kissed his nose back.
Josmael's gaze shifted to the clan of Dalish elves watching them. This was awkward. The Dalish typically ran them off when they saw them together. This clan seemed to accept his presence. Why?
A baby-faced boy with wavy golden hair and big doe eyes approached cautiously.
"Mihren!" someone hissed.
Mithra looked at them. "It's okay. He won't hurt anyone."
Josmael sniffed at Mihren's nervous fingers when he drew close enough.
"I understand a ranger's creatures are sentient. Is that right?" Mihren jumped when Josmael huffed at him.
"Most creatures are sentient. But yeah, he's more intelligent than some people."
Mihren laughed. "That's not saying much."
Mithra smirked. "You have examples in mind?" She patted and stroked Josmael's neck. "You can touch him. He loves having his ears scratched."
Mihren blew out his nerves and slowly reached toward the wolf. Just as he was about to make contact with his head, Josmael chirped, and Mihren jerked his hand back.
The wolf smirked up at him.
"Oh, he's funny." The boy scratched the top of his head and worked his way toward an ear.
Josmael's eyes closed. That was the spot.
The next evening, a party raged, celebrating the safe return of a successful hunting party. Food was passed around generously while the majority of the harvest was hung on racks near various fires for drying.
Mithra leaned against Josmael with a couple of hunters sitting around a fire with her. Mihren's large, doe eyes drifted to Josmael often, and Mithra smiled whenever he would toss Josmael a scrap of meat.
Nerian, a hunter with black curls and eyes of polished malachite, looked to Mithra. "You're not Dalish?"
Mithra drew in a slow breath. Here we go. "No."
"Ah." Nerian looked to the fire. "The keeper speaks well of you and your wolf. Perhaps you could be."
"Lay off, Nerian," Emmaera warned, then looked to Mithra. "The keeper's considering asking if you'd like to stay."
Mithra arched a brow. "Why?"
She shrugged. "She didn't say."
Mihren asked, "Would you?"
Mithra looked into the flames. "You're all amazing people, and I really appreciate your hospitality, but I can't."
"Why not?" Roshan asked from across the way.
She smiled sadly and fiddled with her necklace. "I made a promise, and I really need to keep it."