Chapter Eighteen
Ivendil came to a sudden halt, an arrow ready to be fired from his bow yet again, as he stood tensely in the space between two trees. He was looking straight ahead, but those behind him could make out too little of what he was seeing, especially with the thought-clouded Torri almost running headfirst into him. Eventually, both her and Solaufein managed to stop in time.
"What happened?" the moon elf hissed a question, glaring at the archer's back for a moment before trying to peek over his shoulder.
"There are... people ahead," he replied, his whisper coming to blend in with the forest perfectly – not so surprising for a wood elf in his element.
"People?" Solaufein put in with quite a bit of contempt and a raised eyebrow.
"You identify them, if you're as superior as you think," the archer snapped, his head turning a little so that he could exchange visual daggers with the drow.
Torri rolled her eyes and scowled with the full extent of exasperation, trying to discard how amusing the thought of them actually forming a 'party' was. "Does this look like the time to argue?" she imposed on both, straightening herself to compensate for her disadvantage in height as best she could.
"No," both gave in, only so each of them could look equally distressed by the fact that they had agreed on something.
During their stroll through the forest, Ivendil at the lead, the two men had done nothing but demonstrate not only that they couldn't stand each other, but also their unwillingness to even try and get along. All kinds of offensive remarks had been passed back and forth; all had made for a very stressed Torri, caught up between two figures she would have equally enjoyed to punch unconscious.
Now, they only resumed glaring at each other pointlessly, and the moon elf had to sigh. "I'm beginning to miss Knave," she noted, muttering, then began to stalk past Ivendil to check the 'people' herself.
The archer discarded his prepared shot for the moment promptly, freeing up a hand to all-too-unceremoniously stop the moon elf's advance and hold her in place. "My task," he motivated coolly. For a moment, they silently defied each other, until Torri had to shrug begrudgingly and admit to the logic that he was more suited for scouting out other parties than she was.
Once that dispute was settled, Ivendil let go of her and she withdrew to Solaufein's side, while the archer was stringing his bow ready again. Slowly, the wood elf advanced; so good he was at concealing his presence that soon they lost him from sight among the trees, despite the fact that they had been looking all along. The both of them tried to spot the people he had mentioned by themselves, but they could hardly make out anything but trees and bushes. They gave up, relying on the archer's skills.
He returned sooner than expected, coming out from behind a bush, a move so silent and unnoticeable that it caused Torri to startle when she finally took note of him by her side; the moon elf leaped back a few steps, ready for combat. Calming down, though not completely due to a certain superior smile on the wood elf's lips, she only mirrored Solaufein's questioning look and expectance of an answer.
"It is as I feared," Ivendil shared his knowledge, suddenly grave and serious. "The Priests of Talos."
"Shouldn't we be able to go around them and continue on our way?" Solaufein asked, eyeing the archer distrustfully.
"We should," he nodded, his eyes fixed on a branch right above Torri's head. That caused the moon elf to instinctively turn at the proper angle to see whatever he had spotted there. "Are human clerics able to summon familiars, like mages do?" the wood elf asked her, obviously considering that she should have come across such information in her travels.
Torri narrowed her eyes, regarding the raven perched up comfortably on the branch. Indeed, it was odd that the bird should be there at that time, and it looked too intelligent and attentive anyway. Its own little round eyes stared back at the moon elf and it squawked agitatedly, flipping its wings slightly. "No," the Torri shook her head, moving away to Ivendil's side. "Though... is anyone else feeling as if it's spying on us for someone?" Her answer came as nods from both of the men.
All three elves stood there silently for a few moments, eyeing the strange bird and not knowing what to make of it; Solaufein least of all. "What does it want...?" Torri asked, unsure if Ivendil actually was a ranger, or just an archer supplying into the scout function with his affinity for woods.
"It's watching," he replied, sure of what he was saying. "More than that, I cannot tell, but it is definitely watching us with interest." At least that cleared the ranger part up.
"Surely if the priests could see through its eyes," Solaufein interfered, "they'd be hurrying this way right now?"
"Good point," Ivendil had to admit. "I would hear them if they were doing so, and that isn't the case."
"Then what?" Torri snapped, irascibly. "Who's tool is it?"
"Could you please stop behaving like a dwarf?" Ivendil admonished her severely, which only caused her to mumble something incoherent.
The mutual staring continued, and it was quite amusing to see the three there, all distressed and grave, while the raven they were studying so intensely seemed comfortable and careless. It often broke eye contact to pick at its feathers and clean them with its beak most naturally, but eventually it still ended up looking at them again; Torri could have sworn it was grinning, in an odd bird-like way.
What broke the tense moments was a small cracking sound to the left, that of a twig snapping under someone's weight. Even Solaufein, who was visiting a forest for the first time in his life, had heard enough twigs snap during their own stroll and could recognize it for what it was. They all cast concerned glances at each other and tensed, hands ready at the hilts or handles of their weapons. It seemed to be a solitary being that approached.
In the end, what came out from between the trees was a big wolf, though most certainly it was no simple one. Its fur was thick and long, so healthy that it made them consider the possibility of someone having actually combed it; even more intriguing, though, it was a mild tint of silver. The wolf stopped a safe few feet away from them, its paws gracefully strained in the effort of sustaining its tense and cautious position over a tree-root. Its head was held high and a pair of wide human-like blue eyes looked back at the three, contemplative but otherwise lacking any trace of hostility. They all stayed their hands and watched, enraptured by the serene majestic beauty of this being.
"A lythari..." Ivendil finally managed to murmur softly in recognizance; the wood elf took a diplomatic step forward and nodded respectfully to the apparition.
The wolf's ears perked at the last word and its head lowered, coming a bit forward as it sniffed the air. The wind was slow and calm, but enough to carry their scent over to the animal, who inhaled it and cautiously issued its judgment. Once it had done so, it silently padded closer to them, stopping right in front of the archer to lock eyes with him. Ivendil smiled benevolently, and the wolf almost looked like it was smiling in turn.
All of them, however, were perfectly astounded by this new turn in the story. Solaufein looked distressed, realizing at once that there was knowledge he did not possess that Torri and Ivendil did. The other two were utterly surprised at the discovery; lythari rarely showed themselves in the Prime Material plane anymore, preferring to live in their remote forested realms. Gates to such realms were hidden all across Faerun, but only the lythari themselves knew where to find and how to use them.
"Lythari?" Torri almost gasped behind the archer, eyeing the wolf with increased interest. That brought the creature's own attention to her.
"What would that be?" Solaufein asked her, the only one of the three still on guard.
"Remote kin of... well, Ivendil's more than ours," the moon elf replied, her eyes still filled with the glee and the thrill of revelation, of a great discovery. She couldn't help but feel that way when faced with the prospect of such a rare encounter.
Solaufein, however, regarded the wolf doubtfully. "How could that...?"
His question was interrupted by a new movement of the silver wolf. It slunk back on its haunches and slowly began to grow, its form changing gradually into that of a fur-covered humanoid; in the end, that last element of the wolf faded into soft, pale skin. Only the blue eyes remained of the animal, who was now an exotic silver-haired female elf, complete with primitive-looking clothes that consisted of hides decorated with feathers and ancient bone jewelry. The final element came to add itself to her image, in the form of the raven; the bird took away from its high perch and descended in a mild spiral, coming to gently rest upon her forearm, which she carefully held forth to that purpose. From there, the bird continued to look at its three former 'targets', and Torri thought it looked irritably condescending.
"Vedui," the lythari came to deny the moon elf's suspicion of possible hostility, when she spoke a greeting melodically, though in an awkward accent. She did not intend to stop at that, but did so, for it was clearly difficult for her to find words.
Solaufein did not understand elven anyway, so he wondered little, but Torri and Ivendil knew the lythari rarely took upon their elven shapes and spoke even less frequently. Taking that as the explanation for her difficult speech, they nodded politely and patiently allowed her to recall the language. Still, they couldn't help but be curious about why she had come to them.
"Amin hiraetha (I am sorry)," she finally excused herself. "Nae saian luume'(It has been too long)."
Torri signaled to the archer to do the talking, while she would do her best and translate to Common for Solaufein. The wood elf wanted to object, at first, but the respect he bore for the lythari stopped him and he just nodded his acknowledgment.
"Lye rangwa (We understand)," Ivendil replied, wanting himself to sound reassuring, but in fact trying not to stagger. This was an odd moment for all, not just one party or the other.
The lythari, however, was no longer paying attention to him. Only then had she seemed to notice, while looking to see why Torri was translating, that the third member of their small group was drow. She regarded him warily for a moment, but her wild spirit was less quick to condemn than those of the 'civilized' elves, and acceptance came to her soon. She smiled complacently, showing that she respected their choice of a companion, whatever the base for it had been.
"I..." she struggled for the words again, even more heavily this time, taking large pauses. "... I could try... and speak Common."
Ivendil turned to glare Torri's way, obviously quite outraged by this turn, but the beautiful lythari came to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder tentatively, ready to withdraw it should he make any abrupt move.
"If it is not too great an effort," Torri staggered, feeling a little guilty about putting the wild being through such trials.
"It is not," the lythari woman replied, sure of herself upon those words, since the moon elf had already pronounced them for her. That, combined with her soothing touch, finally managed to calm Ivendil down to an extent.
"What is it we have done to deserve the attention?" Torri asked away, voicing her own honest wonder, as well as Ivendil's.
"I am worried..." she replied, with yet another difficult break, and obviously she had to skip a few words. "The humans... the forest..."
"What have they done?" Ivendil asked, glancing quickly in the direction of the Talassans' campsite, some sort of protective anger promptly beginning to build up inside him.
"The... unnatural storm," the woman answered. "Many trees... harmed. Animals... are wary... afraid. Their pleas have reached me... even in the other plane."
"You are, by nature, a guardian," Ivendil acknowledged. "But the damage they have caused must be immense, if you resented its effects."
"It is... a disturbance... in the order of... things," the lythari answered simply. "I must help."
"Then we stand by your side," Ivendil answered, a dangerous flicker in his eyes; they had not once left the direction where he knew the humans could be found.
Solaufein, who had been silent, acknowledging his lack of knowledge in this matter, shifted uncomfortably and looked to Torri for confirmation. The moon elf nodded sternly. "What can we do?" she asked the lythari, determination strong in her voice.
"Come," the woman replied. "I will show you."
They followed her, as best they could, trying to keep up with the fast pace she had set. Ivendil had the least trouble of them all, but his breath was no less accelerated when they finally reached a small glade, where grass grew fresh and tall among ruined marble columns and collapsed walls. The derelict here, however, was nothing like the one in the poor parts of human cities, nothing like that of their old abandoned castles; a general atmosphere of serene, sacred beauty reigned. Torri and Ivendil were delighted to find themselves there, as they closed their eyes and breathed the fresh air deeply; even Solaufein gave in to the charms of nature and dropped his guard, so that admiration could replace caution.
The lythari smiled and advanced to the center of the glade alone, giving them the time they needed to revel in the place's untainted beauty. Finally, when they were ready to follow, they did so, skipping through the shadows of the ancient ruins to stand by her in front of a small altar, surrounded by what looked like a druidic circle of stone.
"We must summon the spirits of the forest," she said resolutely, her language recovered now that she'd had more time to think. "They will know what to do with the intruders."
"Why do you need us, then?" Solaufein wondered. "Surely you could do it by yourself... or at least without me?" That last sentence caused Torri and Ivendil to exchange glances and then look to the lythari questioningly; it was their own opinion that a drow did not belong in the sacred rituals of surface elves.
"The color of your skin does not matter," the lythari replied kindly; turning to face Solaufein with a small smile, she ignored the others' scouring looks. "The spirits do not judge the body... they search the mind and soul."
"But..." Ivendil began to object.
She stopped him with a light hand gesture. "As long as he prays with the rest of us, for our common goal, he can help as much as any of you would."
"Pray?" the drow looked distressed and at a loss. "I cannot..."
"I will chant and call them," the lythari female interrupted him to explain patiently. "You will sense their presence when they arrive... you only need to send your thoughts out... reach for them and ask that they protect the forest. As long as you are sincere in your request, you will only add strength to it." She turned to the other two. "The same applies in your case."
Torri and Ivendil nodded determinedly, while Solaufein remained insecure, but he did not object anymore. The moon elf glanced at him briefly, pondering whether she should try to dissuade the lythari from that course herself. Strangely enough, the safety of the glade and the general warmth it extended to any who would require it, had quite a contrary effect on the moon elf. "You will do well," she reassured the drow, who regarded her a bit suspiciously, but ended up nodding.
They approached the altar, following the lythari's example, and knelt beside it one by one, forming a small circle. With one last shy smile to them all, the female closed her eyes and began to slowly murmur a few elvish words, which history had lost to the civilized elves in time.