A/N: This is perhaps THE most important chapters of all to understanding Mel's personality, his history, and his looks. A lot of things are explained here….

Chapter 18: Nightmares

At first, he didn't recognize the area he stood in, although some small part of his mind told him he ought to know it. Then, it struck him like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky; his home village. Nestled in a small valley, taking shelter from the icy storms that blasted across the tundra from time to time, lay the small, thick-walled houses. However, these two months a year were quite warm and the storms turned to welcomed breeze of cooler air from the sea.

He saw Her, of course. His beloved Arinell, her white hair sparkling in the light from the moon above them, and her blue eyes holding that all-too familiar sparkle of mischief that had ensnared his heart from the very beginning. Of course, their relationship had been judged as a dead course by the Enarii Clan leader, but people had no objections about them, and, in their own words, would rather 'let the children play and wait for them to grow up on their own'. Nearly fifty turns of the year had passed before people stopped saying so and instead accepted the mix between a pure-blooded Clan member and one of the bastard children of that strange, northern Shaman…

They had awoken early in the morning, before the sun had managed to fully rise, and had raced to the shore. It had been their special time of the day; before everyone else woke up, the two seemingly had the entire world as their own. They had raced, as they had so many times before, to see who could make it to the shore and their morning bath first. They had made love on one of the large rocks that lay some distance into the ocean, before swimming further out, playful as the seals that passed by twice each year and feeling the sheer joy of living.

It was an odd feeling, seeing it all replay as he seemed to float above it all. They were fond memories, and he wished that he did not know what would happen next…

Arinell was calling his name as he swam, alerting him to the time before she turned and heading back towards the shore. She was a faster swimmer than he, and turned again and again as he tried to catch up with her, teasing him. She never noticed the fish behind her…

Highly poisonous, it was a feared creature by all in the Clan. Its poison killed a person within a few days, but the worst was the acidic consistency of the poison itself. It burned the flesh and nerves, causing unimaginable agony until the body simply collapsed under the pain and the soul faded in death. He heard her scream, the memory burning bright like a torch within his mind, and his dream-self screamed with her. Fresh pain assaulted him as he recalled the desperate run through the water, the way she clutched his arms as her shoulders convulsed with pain. The poisonous spikes of the fish had dug deeply into the skin of her back, injecting its poison straight into her spine.

She tried to be brave, tried to bite back the sobs and wails of anguish, although she could not. Her body trembled as the poison ate its way through her body, and steadily increased the pain. There was no cure. Some had tried lowering the afflicted into warm water, hoping the temperature would ease the agony, others had tried a mix of herbs, but no matter what, nothing except unconsciousness brought solace against the pain as the poison did its job and killed the person.

He had not been able to bear it, bear the thought of his beloved Arinell in such anguish. She had pledged him, knowing fully what lay on his mind. One of the hardest thing in his life had been to pull his knife from its scabbard that day… It had ended the life of hundreds of wounded animals, bringing them a swift and merciful death. And now, it would grant another one, a quick escape from the pain that wrecked her form.

He had whispered his apology as she clutched his hand, guiding it over her throat, aiming the tip of the knife for him as tears blurred his own vision. No torture later in his life had compared to what it had been to press the blade down, severing her windpipe and cutting through the bone of her spine, destroying nerves and bloodvessels, bringing a near-instant death. A look of peace had filled her eyes as the knife slid in, its sharp edge cutting the nerves bringing the agony from her body to her brain, and she had briefly clutched his hand as her love shone within her eyes along with her thanks.

As her eyes slid close, he had felt it. Travelling up the knife, it ran over his arm as fast as fire in dry grass, spreading to every limb of his body within seconds. His entire body felt ablaze, and he was barely aware of the scream that escaped him. There was pain, unimaginable pain, but at the same time, a feeling of security, of warm arms embracing him and supporting him through this.

How long it lasted he did not know. Even within this dream, the feel of it all was as clear as had it happened but a few minutes ago. All he knew was that it was fading, turning to a mild warmth in the medallion he always carried, and he woke to the sound of voices all around him. The Clan had found them.

Regardless of what sympathy he did gain from the others of the Clan, the support he was given from friends and relatives through the harsh time after this, he had broken one of the most sacred laws of the Enarii – he had killed another member of his Clan. True, it could have been overlooked. And it was, seeing as the strike had been born out of compassion, but the Clan leader became frightened.

He had never told them that Arinell's spirit had not left the mortal plane. He did not tell them that he could sense her presence within his medallion; a light warmth or a whispered voice telling him that she had not left. But it changed him none the less. The closeness of her soul seemed to merge his looks with hers, changing his hair from brown to the strange, almost glowing, white colour that had characterised his beloved, and his eyes, too, changed from their usual grey to blue.

It had scared the Leader. Frightened all of them. And when the two lovers found that their combined spirits produced enough energy to create fire, it was the final straw. He had been banished from the Clan, given his few belongings, and sent away to the North with the message to never return….

With a gasp, the dark elf shot up in bed, immediately giving a groan of pain as agony shot through his back. However, the memories were still fresh within his mind, and the pains of the wounds caused by the bear were nothing when compared to the pain it had been that day near the sea…

A gentle warmth shone from his amulet, and he could feel her arms wrapping around his soul, soothing and calming him. It was a memory, she told him, but it was centuries past. He ought to try and sleep some more, and she would sing him to rest.

Taking a few, steadying breaths, wiping sweat off his forehead, he lay back down – careful to avoid disturbing the wounds further – and fell into a dreamless reverie, guided by the gentle voice of his beloved singing to his spirit one of the songs they had learned as children…