Chapter Twelve, "Dae'fara"
At first, the training was very straight forward. Dusk was by my side for most of it, obviously doing his best to protect me, making sure that his newfound charge didn't die in some useless "training accident" as he called it. And Kooraw, ever faithful, ever watchful, was also by my side, silently calling out mental warnings whenever a random beast or other dangerous animal was nearby.
As I grew, I realized that I was indeed a rather quick learner. Being human, after all, must have it's strengths, for I believe we learn quickly out of need. More because of our short lifespan than anything else, I guess. Of course, the opposite could be said, and in my case quite true, that we make up for our quick wit by being impulsive and stupid on as many occasions.
Thankfully, none of those occasions has gotten me killed, yet.
The days flew by, while training in the woods with Dusk and the others. I was trained in all of the finest of the silent arts. Sleight of hand, escape tactics, knot work, trap building, snares, hunting, stalking, tracking, following, scenting, mimicry, the silent language of hand code, poison use, weapon training, unarmed fighting, the works.
I also learned much of the political situation and maneuvering of the various Kingdoms and Queendoms of the world. Though I was in a very small village in the middle of the forest, the Elves are extremely good at communicating over large distances, and they taught me much of current events.
Each day heralded a new trainer from within the village. They trained me relentlessly, methodically, and thoroughly. Never letting me lose my edge, always keeping me off balance, until I learned to walk the razor thin dagger line like it was a wide open lane.
I could stalk and kill a deer with only a knife in my hand, and follow a mountain lion through a leaf strewn forest close enough to touch it's tail, all without it ever knowing.
It was during this time, I feel, that I began to become one with the Shadows. The ritual dances of the Wild Elves called to something deep within my spirit, and it was said that on many occasions even the bonfire light would often hide me as I danced in a Shadow Trance around it, making those around me wonder if I had left, only to reappear behind them, startling them into further motion.
It was as if I had to grow into it. Like putting on a shirt that was once too big but now fit. A state of mind I found myself quietly reaching into every chance I could get. Whispers in the darkness around me, coaxing me to join them.
One night, I went to sleep in the shared house Dusk and I resided in, yet awoke to the sunrise some five miles away from the village on a hill in a meadow! It was at once the most profound and frightening experience I had ever encountered. I lied to Dusk, saying that I had snuck out of the house for some much needed free time and space. Though I know he didn't believe my story, he was kind enough not to say anything about it.
And then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, I "walked."
It was like learning to walk as a child, I imagine. I saw a shadow in the trunk of a tree, and was thinking about what it would be like to rest there for a moment. After taking a step, and blinking, my next step was upon the trunk of that tree, well within the large shadow!
Of course, tripped and fell on the root of the base, and ended up having a rather nice rest in it after all.
After that, my "steps" grew larger and larger, and eventually, I could transverse many miles in the course of a day.
I never forgot what my Grandfather's journals had warned, however. "Do not tread the Shadow Path lightly, for darker things than the walker exist on the Shadow Plane to impede your path." Though they didn't mention exactly what those "things" were, I have always assumed the worst.
There was that, and the truest danger anyone who walks the Shadow plane could know, if you make a wrong step, you could end up dead, depending on where you were going.
Moving shadows, after all, are the most dangerous to transverse, and not something I have ever done lightly, so to speak.
It seems I had "paid the price", mentioned in my Grandfather's journals, by killing off those bandits after all. At least, those were the only people I had ever killed up until that point. After that, it must have simply been a matter of age or something.
I began walking the Shadow plane so much, that soon, the Elves actually called me by my name, as though I had finally earned it. Though it was said in Elven, "Dae'fara", the meaning stayed the same: "Shadow Hunter."
After that, Ooro took a particular interest in my training, as if to prove to Rohanna he was right in doing so. I believe he made the right choice, for though I am like my Grandfather in many ways, I am, after all, my own person, and I promised myself I would not use my skills to promote wonton destruction, but rather I would try to correct the situation my Grandfather had created in Sharapuur. Of course, I thought, if people must die in order for me to achieve that goal, woe to them and theirs, for I shall not stay my knife hand.
