We continued our march the next morning. Rash was loud that morning. He kept threatening my existence, like he always did the moment I'd forget he was back there. The dream I had a couple weeks back seemed to have boost his morale, but I don't know why he brought it up now, in this place.

Days passed and the path became steep. Once Tay asked me if I could write a passage and give us an extra horse or make the land less steep. Allanon, Risca, and Brom were on him in an instant. Part of it was my fault. On our first adventure, we had to cross mountains and tough terrain but I would heedlessly make a path or make the incline less steep, and so on. I had been very careless back then.

"Never, ever, suggest anything like that again!" Allanon scolded the cringing elf, when they were safely away from ear-shot. Brom glared at me with venomous eyes. He knew what came of my writings.

I quickly after that felt alienated from the group. I wasn't exactly strong, or useful. I was often winded and fell behind the group. Rash loved it, but I quickly found a place among the four hobbits. I had never beheld a halfling before coming to this world and they were more than eager to tell me of their history. The young Pippin was the first to befriend me, offering me a puff o his pipe as I cringed from one of Rash's fits. Gandalf refused to allow Allanon to give me any magic to calm the shadowen, afraid any extra magic might call attention to our group. The pipe certainly shut Rash up. He complained all night about how putrid the thing was, and for once we agreed on something.

Merry and Frodo followed their young cousins example and often came over to help the young hobbit relate tales of their home they called the Shire. Last to come around was Samwise. He still was reluctant to trust me, but when it came to telling stories of the elves he was the first to correct and the last to stop talking.

I found though that Rash didn't seem interested in Frodo's ring anymore. I tried to ask him but he refused, closing himself up in the deepest corner of my mind.

We came to rest, one day in the foothills, upon several large boulders. We all looked forward to a day of rest and perhaps a fire. I sat on a perch away from the group.

Rash was unusual quiet today, and it worried me that perhaps something was on its way.

Below me on a broad ledge Boromir and Brom fenced. The man from Gondor and the pale boy had bonded close these past few weeks. Brom was eager to learn everything he could from Boromir and Boromir was more than happy to teach him.

"All by yourself, Meia?" Came Allanon's voice. I turned and smiled at him as he clambered over to where I sat and joined me. " Is Rash loud today?" I shook my head.

"No, actually he's quite still today," I said as Allanon picked a leaf from my hair. Our eyes met and I felt my heart jump. Sometimes I forgot our vow, sometimes it felt like we had never made it. He looked away first with a faint smile. We sat in silence as the murmur of voices from the fellowship drifted on the wind. With a sigh, I leaned over and rested my head on Allanon's shoulder. The sun shone brightly and the air was sweet, and I remembered a time when I had been of one mind and when I had been more than the druid's charge. I missed those days.

If Allanon thought the same thing I did, he didn't show it and let me rest on his shoulder. Feeling safe and warm, I closed my eyes and listen to the sound of Allanon's breathing.

"Better Brom, much better," Boromir smiled as they sat down. Both were sweating freely and were smiling. The boy sheathed the Sword of Shannara in the scabbard across his back and pulled on his grey tunic.

"Boromir, will you tell me more of the city with the white tower?" Brom asked as the borderman drank from his water flask.

"Again?" Boromir laughed, handing the pale boy his flask. "I've told you everything about the great city, but-" he studied the boy's pixie face. " I know nothing off you. Why don't tell me of your parents. Are they the old man and the seeress?"

A breeze blew and fanned Brom's hair as he set the flask down. A sliver, glimmering strand stuck to the corner of his pink lips as he spoke.

" I don't have any parents. No one raised me. Bremen and Star looked after me, but its not the same," Brom kept his black eyes locked with Boromir's. He watched every emotion that crossed the borderman's face.

"You'd make a great leader," Boromir said softly and leaned over, pulling the strand away from Brom's mouth. "if you'd like I'd like to be your guardian after this quest is over. After this whole mess, we'll go to Minas Tirith, and you can live with me."

Brom's eyes sparkled with genuine delight., "You mean it? You Promise!?" He asked excitedly.

Boromir nodded and held up his magnificent horn, " I swear on the Horn of Gondor."

With the first child like emotion Boromir had seen in Brom, the pixie-boy launched himself into Boromir's arms, laughing happily.