Once on the celebration of their sixteenth spring, Drizzt was looking at his daughters dance in the moon light. It became a tradition. To end the soiree, the twins made the last dance. The sheer clothes covered their beautiful bodies; the moonlight glistened on the drops of sweat. The public, which consisted of Mithril Hall and Settlestone, seemed to be hypnotized with the fluid motions of the young ladies. Jumping, turning around, bending and straitening once again in perfect time with the flute. The girls were in another world to themselves. They saw no one around them. They didn't see the pairs of eyes devouring them with their glances.
Unconsciously doing the same movements, Arnienne and Rua'leen let the music fulfill their bodies and souls. Suddenly Drizzt noticed one thing he never gave credit to.
Arnienne's movements were rougher, jerkier, more complete, while Rua'leen's were more fluid, softer, and it was hard to see the change between pas┘
The ranger thought that this detail reflected their character better than any words. And he was right.
The dark skinned girl was very sensitive, always listening to her own, and other people's minds and hearts. Her sister - her antipode; although not heartless, never showing her feelings and never showing interest for other's.
Once alone, Arnienne felt some wet drops near her eyes. She began to run through the forest swiftly, skipping by the trees that appeared in her way. She wanted to convince herself that those salty drops were just sweat. The young elf would never admit that she cried, that something hurt her, that she was weak. This trait was one of the few differences between her and
Rua'leen. All the things Arnienne has done in her entire life she has done with her sister. Everything. They shared all the joys, victories, losses and difficulties. They have done everything equally good or equally bad. Only the closest persons like their parents could see this minor detail which made them so different.
Passing under a low branch, Ar grabbed it and using the inertia from her run jumped in it, continuing her way above the ground. Deftly jumping from branch to branch, her pace didn't diminish even a bit. A sudden roar made her stop in a stroke. Breathing hard, the tears running steadily down her cheeks, the mortal daggers came from the scabbards and
Arnienne prepared for an attack. Not for a defence, for an attack!
He was running as fast as he could. The orcs were close, but he would not start the battle unless he had no choice.
Run! Run!
Breathing hard, sweat burning the eyes, long hair tangled and clinging to his face. He groped the hilt of the dagger, the only way he could survive. His fine sword will help, but it was no comparison to his shorter brother.
Run, run, run!
He could already feel their foul breath; he could already feel their hands trying to grab his cloak. He fell.
"You won't get me so easily!" he screamed, and jumped upon one of his enemies.
He fought hard and with great skill, but they were too much. A heavy punch made the young man open his left hand and as the result, the dagger slipped out, falling to the ground.
"NOOOOOOO!" The cry came from within.
The creatures halted for a moment. The dumb monsters couldn't even imagine that a human could make a sound like that. While they thought that, the man fell to his knees, searching through the dead leaves for the item that could save his life.
Unfortunately the orcs were not known for their ability to think very long. Thus, before he knew new it, he was beneath the weight of three foul smelling monsters. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't cry for help. He could do nothing.
"This is the end. My father will be very disappointed with me." Those were his last thoughts before everything fell into darkness.