Author's Notes: Huzzah, an update! Chances are future ones will not be
this rapid, but it feels good to get this written out after some revisions.
As a side note, I know it's possible to write in italics and have them
show up here. If someone would be so kind as to mention what the code is
for this I would be eternally grateful.
His Father's Eyes was a late addition which I realized needed to be made to make this story truly follow Salvatore's style. I looked through all of the books in search of Zaknafein's true eye color but found no reference, my best guess as to why it was being left out that Salvatore overlooked it or didn't find it important. Still, I wanted to write that part in, so in it went. Enjoy this latest installment, and please feel free to call me on any technicalities I get wrong.
late correction: Thankyou Liriel for catching me on misspelling Corellon Larethian's name. The chapter has been resubmitted with the proper spelling inserted.
He awoke that evening to the sun still in the sky and watched the light filter into the cave. The sun felt painful but good at the same time, as if it was bringing warmth to some part of his soul. He shook his head at the idea of this but found he couldn't deny it's truth. Something about this place seemed to call out to him. He knew not where he'd come from but he did know that this place was infinitely better.
When the sun's light finally died down enough for him to be comfortable he ventured out, waking about the forest he now called home. The moon was a touch fuller this night, as he'd been told to expect, and he wondered what it would look like when it was full.
He sat down by the river's bank and regarded his own reflection. The voice had told him of many things but it apparently did not know or chose not to reveal his name or how he had come here. He accepted his lot stoically, hoping that if he searched long enough he would find someone who knew his name. Whoever he'd been, there must have been others that knew him. Allies, or family perhaps? His dreams that night had been full of people without faces, and a voice that brought a painful tug to his heart.
The voice that had guided him last night was gone and he knew that he would not hear from it again. He'd been given the information he needed to survive, the rest would be up to him. He knew this, he also knew that he could not remain in this place forever. Something, he knew not what was calling him, telling him to leave this place and that there was someone he needed to find.
With these thoughts in his head, he left the forest grove and ventured out into the world at large. He traveled all night, walking towards the place he knew the sun would come. With the coming of dawn he found a new place to rest, this time in a hollow tree where he watched the sunrise a second time then went to sleep.
Iria studied the path in front of her, wondering which direction she should take today. Her dream the night had interrupted her planned return to the forest grove she called home, and left her wondering which direction she would be wisest to go in.
To the West lay scores of untouched wilderness, beyond which was a human settlement she'd visited perhaps twice in her life. To the South lay a road that she had traveled often, though not recently. Iria smiled as she thought of the elven village she had come from. It was the one place she knew she'd always be welcome, no matter how the world seemed to change around her.
She thought of the family that she had left behind, especially of her younger brother who would now be nearing his second century of life. Erris had always had an uncanny skill at understanding her and a knack for unweaving the meaning of dreams. Though the dream had not come back last night she found her mind replaying it during her waking hours. Despite that, she still could not decide whether she believed in the dream's message or not. She resisted the urge to pull out the piece of hair she'd found in her hand again to stare at it. She'd deliberately placed it at the bottom of her pack, wrapped in a scrap of cloth which had come from a shirt that she had long ago cut up for bandages. The shirt had seemed well worn then but, glancing down Iria realized even her most well-kept clothes now looked trail worn. While she was not one to be concerned over fancy dress she full well knew that come winter she would regret having less than travel-ready clothes.
Recalling this, and remembering how much she wished to see her village again the choice became much simpler. Iria turned to the south, back towards home.
Three days later, Iria reached a set of oak trees that rose gracefully to meet far above her head. Though she had left the marked paths most adventurers traveled days ago, these trees announced to her that she was almost home. Indeed, it seemed she had only taken two more steps before the first of her people called out to her in greeting.
Iria offered her own greeting to the scout as he walked to met he and accepted his offer as company during her walk back to the village. She asked him one or two questions about how the village was faring which he answered readily enough. After that Iria did her best to answer the steady stream of questions the youngling had about the world at large.
Few from Iria's village traveled outside their beloved forests. Among her people she was the exception, and she had been called upon more than once to describe the human's cities and the strange creatures she had seen. Though her people knew every forest creature and herb of the area and met travelers on adventures, they had never seen so many things ... At times she felt sorry for them but at times she was envious of their simple lives. Especially after she had seen some of the atrocities humans were capable of. In her home village though, such thoughts were impossible to dwell upon.
Iria met with the elders of the village, then went of to find her brother. His home was on the outskirts of the village, and she found him at his garden. With a smile on her face she approached him from behind, then taped him on the shoulder.
Instantly, Erris turned to face his imagined opponent, the tiny shovel he had been using coming in front of him in a defensive posture.
"It is good to see you again brother." Iria said cheerfully, choking back the laughter that seeing him in such a ridiculous posture brought.
"And you as well sister," Erris replied, then added ruefully. "Though next time you come to visit I would appreciate a word of greeting before you decide to test my reflexes!"
Iria moved her hands into a graceful gesture of apology, then pulled a small medallion from one of the pouches she wore about her waist and presented it to Erris.
Erris' eyes nearly glowed as he studied this latest gift from his elder sister, a golden pendant with the symbol for Corellon Larethian, the god he had chosen to follow. Iria had given him his first symbol to the god when he had decided his path and she had made a point to search for others that he might enjoy when she went adventuring.
Erris had always been devoted to the religious and at times it seemed as if he heard the voices of the gods. Indeed more than once Erris had predicated what was going to happen or circumvented a tragedy by advising others to act a certain way. With the thoughts of her brother's dreams, Iria again remembered her own, and an expression of worry crossed her face.
"Is something troubling you?" He asked, his gold-flecked blue eyes lit with concern.
"Not much, just ... I had a dream a few nights back which keeps on coming back to my thoughts. I think it was a message from Mielikki but I am not certain whether to believe it or not ..." Iria frowned. Despite her best attempts to uncover what her dream might mean, she was still not sure whether she believed that she had been sent a message or whether it was merely a dream.
"Tell me about it?" Erris asked. Desperate for an interpretation to the dream that had been haunting her, Iria told him everything.
As the sun set, the drow set out from his hollow tree once more and began his travels. Each day he had been finding shelter later in the day and setting out earlier, something he was truly proud of. He hoped that by keeping this pattern to force his eyes to adjust to the harsh light, enabling him to move about during the day. The colors he saw here dazzled him, and the creatures that he saw here seemed nothing if not amazing ...
The drow's thoughts broke off as he heard the sound of a branch snapping not so far away and the sound of voices. He stopped moving, almost stopped breathing as the voices seemed to get closer to him, then he moved back behind a tangle of brush and waited.
The group was in view soon enough, a party of four humans accompanied by a dwarf and a surface elf. It took all of his willpower not to do something to give himself away in the presence of these travelers. Each was armed, and armed well. He knew that with no armor or weapons he would be easy prey for them. Still, as long as they did not seem to see him, he should be safe.
The dwarf seemed more intent on the trail ahead than in looking for hidden adversaries and the humans seemed more intent on the path, and in their own conversation, which was in a tongue that he could not understand. However, the elf seemed alert to his surroundings. As though he'd spoken his thought aloud, the surface elf looked in his direction. Their eyes met, and all became chaos.
The elf shouted something to his companions then fired an arrow which hit the drow in the shoulder. Startled, he stood up and began backing away, even as the humans and the dwarf came charging through the underbrush. Another arrow came by him, this one barely missing.
He ran, taking the charging party in a zigzag route through the forest in an attempt to shake them off then climbing a tree and moving from branch to branch to further throw them off. He heard more sharp words in a foreign tongue, but did not bother to slow. His shoulder ached but he knew better than to stop to dress it until he was safely out of sight. He had no doubts that, given another chance to hit him, the surface elf would not miss.
He stopped, finally, by a clear running stream and climbed down from the tree slowly. He gritting his teeth as he pulled the arrow out, then tore off a section of his pants and wrapped it about his arm to staunch the flow of blood.
For a long time after that he sat, staring down into his blurred reflection in the dying light and wondering if all encounters with those of the surface world were destined to end this way.
His Father's Eyes was a late addition which I realized needed to be made to make this story truly follow Salvatore's style. I looked through all of the books in search of Zaknafein's true eye color but found no reference, my best guess as to why it was being left out that Salvatore overlooked it or didn't find it important. Still, I wanted to write that part in, so in it went. Enjoy this latest installment, and please feel free to call me on any technicalities I get wrong.
late correction: Thankyou Liriel for catching me on misspelling Corellon Larethian's name. The chapter has been resubmitted with the proper spelling inserted.
He awoke that evening to the sun still in the sky and watched the light filter into the cave. The sun felt painful but good at the same time, as if it was bringing warmth to some part of his soul. He shook his head at the idea of this but found he couldn't deny it's truth. Something about this place seemed to call out to him. He knew not where he'd come from but he did know that this place was infinitely better.
When the sun's light finally died down enough for him to be comfortable he ventured out, waking about the forest he now called home. The moon was a touch fuller this night, as he'd been told to expect, and he wondered what it would look like when it was full.
He sat down by the river's bank and regarded his own reflection. The voice had told him of many things but it apparently did not know or chose not to reveal his name or how he had come here. He accepted his lot stoically, hoping that if he searched long enough he would find someone who knew his name. Whoever he'd been, there must have been others that knew him. Allies, or family perhaps? His dreams that night had been full of people without faces, and a voice that brought a painful tug to his heart.
The voice that had guided him last night was gone and he knew that he would not hear from it again. He'd been given the information he needed to survive, the rest would be up to him. He knew this, he also knew that he could not remain in this place forever. Something, he knew not what was calling him, telling him to leave this place and that there was someone he needed to find.
With these thoughts in his head, he left the forest grove and ventured out into the world at large. He traveled all night, walking towards the place he knew the sun would come. With the coming of dawn he found a new place to rest, this time in a hollow tree where he watched the sunrise a second time then went to sleep.
Iria studied the path in front of her, wondering which direction she should take today. Her dream the night had interrupted her planned return to the forest grove she called home, and left her wondering which direction she would be wisest to go in.
To the West lay scores of untouched wilderness, beyond which was a human settlement she'd visited perhaps twice in her life. To the South lay a road that she had traveled often, though not recently. Iria smiled as she thought of the elven village she had come from. It was the one place she knew she'd always be welcome, no matter how the world seemed to change around her.
She thought of the family that she had left behind, especially of her younger brother who would now be nearing his second century of life. Erris had always had an uncanny skill at understanding her and a knack for unweaving the meaning of dreams. Though the dream had not come back last night she found her mind replaying it during her waking hours. Despite that, she still could not decide whether she believed in the dream's message or not. She resisted the urge to pull out the piece of hair she'd found in her hand again to stare at it. She'd deliberately placed it at the bottom of her pack, wrapped in a scrap of cloth which had come from a shirt that she had long ago cut up for bandages. The shirt had seemed well worn then but, glancing down Iria realized even her most well-kept clothes now looked trail worn. While she was not one to be concerned over fancy dress she full well knew that come winter she would regret having less than travel-ready clothes.
Recalling this, and remembering how much she wished to see her village again the choice became much simpler. Iria turned to the south, back towards home.
Three days later, Iria reached a set of oak trees that rose gracefully to meet far above her head. Though she had left the marked paths most adventurers traveled days ago, these trees announced to her that she was almost home. Indeed, it seemed she had only taken two more steps before the first of her people called out to her in greeting.
Iria offered her own greeting to the scout as he walked to met he and accepted his offer as company during her walk back to the village. She asked him one or two questions about how the village was faring which he answered readily enough. After that Iria did her best to answer the steady stream of questions the youngling had about the world at large.
Few from Iria's village traveled outside their beloved forests. Among her people she was the exception, and she had been called upon more than once to describe the human's cities and the strange creatures she had seen. Though her people knew every forest creature and herb of the area and met travelers on adventures, they had never seen so many things ... At times she felt sorry for them but at times she was envious of their simple lives. Especially after she had seen some of the atrocities humans were capable of. In her home village though, such thoughts were impossible to dwell upon.
Iria met with the elders of the village, then went of to find her brother. His home was on the outskirts of the village, and she found him at his garden. With a smile on her face she approached him from behind, then taped him on the shoulder.
Instantly, Erris turned to face his imagined opponent, the tiny shovel he had been using coming in front of him in a defensive posture.
"It is good to see you again brother." Iria said cheerfully, choking back the laughter that seeing him in such a ridiculous posture brought.
"And you as well sister," Erris replied, then added ruefully. "Though next time you come to visit I would appreciate a word of greeting before you decide to test my reflexes!"
Iria moved her hands into a graceful gesture of apology, then pulled a small medallion from one of the pouches she wore about her waist and presented it to Erris.
Erris' eyes nearly glowed as he studied this latest gift from his elder sister, a golden pendant with the symbol for Corellon Larethian, the god he had chosen to follow. Iria had given him his first symbol to the god when he had decided his path and she had made a point to search for others that he might enjoy when she went adventuring.
Erris had always been devoted to the religious and at times it seemed as if he heard the voices of the gods. Indeed more than once Erris had predicated what was going to happen or circumvented a tragedy by advising others to act a certain way. With the thoughts of her brother's dreams, Iria again remembered her own, and an expression of worry crossed her face.
"Is something troubling you?" He asked, his gold-flecked blue eyes lit with concern.
"Not much, just ... I had a dream a few nights back which keeps on coming back to my thoughts. I think it was a message from Mielikki but I am not certain whether to believe it or not ..." Iria frowned. Despite her best attempts to uncover what her dream might mean, she was still not sure whether she believed that she had been sent a message or whether it was merely a dream.
"Tell me about it?" Erris asked. Desperate for an interpretation to the dream that had been haunting her, Iria told him everything.
As the sun set, the drow set out from his hollow tree once more and began his travels. Each day he had been finding shelter later in the day and setting out earlier, something he was truly proud of. He hoped that by keeping this pattern to force his eyes to adjust to the harsh light, enabling him to move about during the day. The colors he saw here dazzled him, and the creatures that he saw here seemed nothing if not amazing ...
The drow's thoughts broke off as he heard the sound of a branch snapping not so far away and the sound of voices. He stopped moving, almost stopped breathing as the voices seemed to get closer to him, then he moved back behind a tangle of brush and waited.
The group was in view soon enough, a party of four humans accompanied by a dwarf and a surface elf. It took all of his willpower not to do something to give himself away in the presence of these travelers. Each was armed, and armed well. He knew that with no armor or weapons he would be easy prey for them. Still, as long as they did not seem to see him, he should be safe.
The dwarf seemed more intent on the trail ahead than in looking for hidden adversaries and the humans seemed more intent on the path, and in their own conversation, which was in a tongue that he could not understand. However, the elf seemed alert to his surroundings. As though he'd spoken his thought aloud, the surface elf looked in his direction. Their eyes met, and all became chaos.
The elf shouted something to his companions then fired an arrow which hit the drow in the shoulder. Startled, he stood up and began backing away, even as the humans and the dwarf came charging through the underbrush. Another arrow came by him, this one barely missing.
He ran, taking the charging party in a zigzag route through the forest in an attempt to shake them off then climbing a tree and moving from branch to branch to further throw them off. He heard more sharp words in a foreign tongue, but did not bother to slow. His shoulder ached but he knew better than to stop to dress it until he was safely out of sight. He had no doubts that, given another chance to hit him, the surface elf would not miss.
He stopped, finally, by a clear running stream and climbed down from the tree slowly. He gritting his teeth as he pulled the arrow out, then tore off a section of his pants and wrapped it about his arm to staunch the flow of blood.
For a long time after that he sat, staring down into his blurred reflection in the dying light and wondering if all encounters with those of the surface world were destined to end this way.