Ariadne
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In the moonlight she was pale, somehow eerie sight. She moved silently through the forest, carrying a light backpack and two rapiers. It was a bad night to leave her domain, spirits of the dead were restless. But nothing lived in the Vale of Lost Voices, and she had to find her food elsewhere.
The drow were on the move, she had heard. But as long as they stayed away from the Vale, and they would, she had no quarrel with them. This was her domain. Elves did not build or settle in the area, they visited it only during the daytime and always alone. It suited well to her.
When she had stood at the City Gates almost an year ago, watching how sun rose high and waiting for one who never came, her first instinctive thought after poignant disappointment was Cormanthor. She'd go home to lick her wounds, maybe visit friends and family she had not seen for years.
But when she arrived, she realized things were different now. Her woodelven clan did not welcome her with open arms. Great heroine she might be, but when they told her that her brother had decided to join the Auzkovyn Clan, she knew they wouldn't take her in.
Her mother's kin was long dead. Her brother had betrayed their father's kin for the drow and disgraced his family with that act. Eventually, she had decided to leave, but before that she wanted to pay her respects to the dead in her ancestral ground.
Protector of the Lost, they called her nowadays. She made infrequent visits to the elven settlements, but elves kept out of the way when she bought necessary equipment and left soon after. They respected her but also feared her, for nothing lived in the Vale of Lost Voices.
She heard an eerie sound and quickened her steps. Once she had hunted the undead and knew how they could drain the life force of mortal being with one, light touch. She was the Protector, but she protected those who visited the burial ground as much as those who did not breath.
Transparent figure of woman was waiting for her. Ariadne's green eyes were very bright as she kneeled down, laying her burden aside.
"Laeteriel", she whispered and bowed her head.
Ghost's voice was like wind whispering in dead leaves, crackling and draft at the same time. No words could be heard, but she spoke and laid her hand lightly on Ariadne's shoulder.
Ranger stirred and in the moonlight her skin looked even paler than before. Woman's transparent form brightened up, and after a while she took her hand away.
Protector of the Lost collapsed on the ground, staring at the sky with glazed eyes. She saw how a man spurred in the night, looking determined but on his guard. In dream she knew he was being followed, but he knew it as well. His soul was ablaze with bright light, it wasn't that small, smothering flame she remembered. His glow hurted her eyes, but soon, too soon he vanished from her sight.
With her every ardous breath, she was vanishing as well. She closed her eyes and drifted farther away from the world of living.
Transparent woman smiled bleakly and bent down. Her white, cold fingers felt Ariadne's neck and unlocked a heavy, golden necklace she wore. Slowly, the ghost roused her arms and locked the necklace around her own neck, singing unearthly melody which echoed in the Vale of Lost Voices.
-------
In the moonlight she was pale, somehow eerie sight. She moved silently through the forest, carrying a light backpack and two rapiers. It was a bad night to leave her domain, spirits of the dead were restless. But nothing lived in the Vale of Lost Voices, and she had to find her food elsewhere.
The drow were on the move, she had heard. But as long as they stayed away from the Vale, and they would, she had no quarrel with them. This was her domain. Elves did not build or settle in the area, they visited it only during the daytime and always alone. It suited well to her.
When she had stood at the City Gates almost an year ago, watching how sun rose high and waiting for one who never came, her first instinctive thought after poignant disappointment was Cormanthor. She'd go home to lick her wounds, maybe visit friends and family she had not seen for years.
But when she arrived, she realized things were different now. Her woodelven clan did not welcome her with open arms. Great heroine she might be, but when they told her that her brother had decided to join the Auzkovyn Clan, she knew they wouldn't take her in.
Her mother's kin was long dead. Her brother had betrayed their father's kin for the drow and disgraced his family with that act. Eventually, she had decided to leave, but before that she wanted to pay her respects to the dead in her ancestral ground.
Protector of the Lost, they called her nowadays. She made infrequent visits to the elven settlements, but elves kept out of the way when she bought necessary equipment and left soon after. They respected her but also feared her, for nothing lived in the Vale of Lost Voices.
She heard an eerie sound and quickened her steps. Once she had hunted the undead and knew how they could drain the life force of mortal being with one, light touch. She was the Protector, but she protected those who visited the burial ground as much as those who did not breath.
Transparent figure of woman was waiting for her. Ariadne's green eyes were very bright as she kneeled down, laying her burden aside.
"Laeteriel", she whispered and bowed her head.
Ghost's voice was like wind whispering in dead leaves, crackling and draft at the same time. No words could be heard, but she spoke and laid her hand lightly on Ariadne's shoulder.
Ranger stirred and in the moonlight her skin looked even paler than before. Woman's transparent form brightened up, and after a while she took her hand away.
Protector of the Lost collapsed on the ground, staring at the sky with glazed eyes. She saw how a man spurred in the night, looking determined but on his guard. In dream she knew he was being followed, but he knew it as well. His soul was ablaze with bright light, it wasn't that small, smothering flame she remembered. His glow hurted her eyes, but soon, too soon he vanished from her sight.
With her every ardous breath, she was vanishing as well. She closed her eyes and drifted farther away from the world of living.
Transparent woman smiled bleakly and bent down. Her white, cold fingers felt Ariadne's neck and unlocked a heavy, golden necklace she wore. Slowly, the ghost roused her arms and locked the necklace around her own neck, singing unearthly melody which echoed in the Vale of Lost Voices.