Chapter 5 – The color of your wings
Edwynn was soaked.
The afternoon run to the abbey had proved completely useless. Jorik had been nowhere that Edwynn could find. The stable master had vanished sometime after the three students had left the abbey for their homes. Edwynn had searched the entire complex from the basement to the belfry. The only thing he discovered was his instructor sister Wecenda putting on rogue and perfume. She too was looking for Jorik, and proving just as successful.
About an hour after sunset Edwynn gave up. His mentor had simply left the abbey, there was no other explanation. A fast mare was missing from the stable. Although there were no witnesses, Edwynn assumed that Mr. Kerrigan had ridden south to Stormwind to inform his former colleagues in the capital of the strangers that had arrived this afternoon. So, in a mood that matched the weather, Edwynn began the journey home.
The early spring rain was bitterly cold. Edwynn's wool tunic and linen pants offered almost no protection from the elements. Also, one of his shoes leaked. He had hoped to be able to tell Jorik about Mythril and be back at the manor in time for dinner.
He had not eaten since lunchtime. Now he knew that he would have been missed, and Corbin undoubtedly had a vicious lecture for him, followed by a stern beating. Edwynn did not think his uncle a cruel man, but he also had little love for him. He knew his uncle was trying his best to raise the boy the only way he knew how. Corbin constantly reminded Edwynn that if he didn't shape up, Myrista might choose to not keep him on as staff at the Crownguard manor. That meant being kicked out to live as a farmhand or a miner. The kingdom had too many of both, which was why so many took up banditry or left to join the army. As for the military, Edwynn knew he would make a poor soldier. Fighting and dying for other people's causes was not his idea of a good time.
Being a bandit certainly sounded exciting. Until this afternoon, that had been Edwynn's unofficial goal. That, or running off to join the Darkmoon Faire. But Jorik's secret had opened Edwynn's eyes to new possibilities. The idea of being a spy for Stormwind had set a kind of fire to his blood. Unfortunately it did little to warm his body.
Edwynn smelled the smoke first. It was near the spot where Myrista had yelled at Brogan this afternoon. It was a nasty, acidic smell that carried the hint of overcooked meat. At first the boy thought he was downwind of some foolish traveler's campfire, but soon the orange glow beyond the trees told him that something horrible had happened.
He started running then. Sloshing thru muddy puddles and almost twisting his ankle when a loose rock snared him. As he rounded the bend, he saw Crownguard manor ablaze. Black smoke poured from the open front door, and every window belched orange flame. The rain sizzled as it hit the rooftop shingles, but did little else to douse the fire. Edwynn darted forward, looking for his family or anyone from the nearby homesteads, which might have seen the pyre.
The only thing he found was carnage.
A dozen paces from the front door was the well. Apparently several of the farmhands had tried to start a bucket brigade. Someone or something had attacked them, and their mangled bodies were strewn around the yard. The firelight cast everything in a orange-yellow glow, but Edwynn could still see the blood. It pooled like oil, forming nasty black puddles around the bodies. Some of the corpses had been hacked to pieces, and many limbs were lying far from any possible owners
Edwynn had never imagined such butchery was possible. The stories of the undead scourge or the orcish invasion seemed like distant fairy tales. In a kind of dumbstruck stupor they boy stumbled around the yard staring at the bodies. Occasionally he recognized a pair of boots, or a weathered jacket. He wandered like that for several minutes before he heard voices, and a cackling laughter.
Sprinting around the corner, he saw two bandits. The firelight seemed to deepen the blacks of their leathers, but the crimson handkerchiefs they used as masks left the tops of their faces exposed. They were arguing about some trinket they had looted from a corpse at their feet. Edwynn cried out when he saw that it was a pearl necklace, and that the body at their feet was Claudette.
His outburst drew their attention, and they forgot their argument and turned towards him. Long and wicked looking daggers occupied their hands.
"Looks like we missed one." The skinny bandit sneered. His larger companion began circling towards the woods, forcing Edwynn's back to the burning manor.
Glancing around desperately, Edwynn saw the broken shaft of a hoe gripped in the hand of a nearby corpse. He grabbed it and pulled it from the limp fingers. He held it up before him, like a child playing knights and goblins.
"Oh, this one's got some fight in him. I think I'm gonna piss myself." The skinny one cackled a laugh.
'This is it.' Edwynn thought. 'I'm going to die.' From somewhere deep inside him a terrible anger welled up. The bodies of his family, his burning home, the dead farmhands, it all flashed before his eyes. The anger pushed aside his fear and a suicidal madness took hold of him. He raised the stick over his head and let out a guttural warcry.
The skinny one laughed then. But his laughter was cut off when his larger companion cried out in alarm. He pointed as blackness seemed to detach itself from the woods. It was an animal of some kind. It was sleek and cat shaped, but easily larger than any wolf Edwynn had ever seen. The creature seemed to melt into the rain and shadow. But most striking were its eyes. They glowed yellow from within.
"What manner of hellspawn is this?" the skinny bandit yelped. The larger one drew a thin metal spike from his belt and threw it at the shadowy creature. It was a sloppy throw and the blade sailed harmlessly into the woods. The creature roared then, and rushed the big man. He fell screaming to the ground as the beast pounced upon him.
Edwynn turned to the skinny bandit. The masked man watched his comrade for a couple of seconds before turning and running towards the woods. The light from the blaze caught on the pearl necklace in his left hand. Edwynn's rage resurfaced and the boy screamed and ran after him. The brigand was fast, and in the span of three heartbeats they were both among the trees.
As the forest closed in, the trees blocked the light from the burning building. Edwynn could barely see four paces in front of him, but his prey's panicked breathing revealed his position. After nearly half a minute Edwynn finally caught up to the bandit. The boy swung his weapon at the back of the thin man's knees, sending him tumbling to the forest floor.
Crying out with fury and rage, he began swinging wildly at his victim. The first two strikes were rewarded with meaty thuds. The third however sounded against metal as the bandit blocked the attack with his knife. On the fourth swing, the man actually caught the shaft with his hand, and kicked Edwynn away. The boy's weapon flew out of his hands, and the bandit slashed at Edwynn's legs with his knife. The pain lanced up from Edwynn's left knee. The boy cried out and stumbled backwards. His hands slipped on a wet tree and he fell.
"Shoulda run the other way boy." The thin man cackled as he picked himself up. "That stray dog could have saved your life if you hadn't wanted to be a hero. Now I'll just have to gut ya."
The man pulled his mask down, revealing an ugly face and a mouth with only a half dozen rotted teeth. He sneered as he began to advance towards Edwynn. As he stepped forward, his foot seemed to catch on a vine. A slithering sound issued up from all around him, and as he looked down, he saw tree roots and grasses moving like snakes. Thick wooden limbs erupted from the ground and encased him up to his knees. He screamed and began to slash at the vines, but to no avail. He actually cried out to Edwynn for help. As he looked over towards the boy, his gaze caught twin yellow eyes glowing from the shadows. His scream was cut off as the creature flew out of the woods and ripped his throat out with its teeth.
Edwynn threw up his arms and squeezed his eyes shut tight. It was over in seconds, but he would never forget the crunch of bone or the sounds of shredding flesh and cloth. When it stopped, there was only the sound of rainfall and the sharp pain in his leg where the bandit had cut him. After a couple seconds Edwynn dared to look up.
The beast was gone. In its place was Mythril. She stood with her back to him and Edwynn was amazed again at how far she towered over him. She turned towards him, and Edwynn wondered stupidly why her mouth was covered with blood. Her hands too, clear to the elbows. But when she blinked, and her brightly glowing eyes vanished for an instant, that was when he knew. She was a druid, one of the elven shape shifters. She had transformed herself into the great cat and murdered two men. No, not murdered. Those men were killers, and she had saved his life.
They stared at each other in silence for several seconds. Then she licked some of the blood from her lips and swallowed.
It was that little action that sent him over the edge. Edwynn burst into tears, the events of the night all rushing back to him at full force. Wave after wave of emotion flooded him. Terror, anger, and misery. It was simply too much to take. The night elf said nothing, but began wiping the blood from her arms, and pulling tiny bits of gore from her finger nails. After several moments, she spoke.
"This is the first time you have seen men die?" She asked.
Edwynn nodded. He struggled to regain control of himself.
Mythril stared stoically. "It is this hour, this moment, which will decide your destiny. Among my people it is called 'Ten'Sortal'. I believe I heard one of your own soldiers call it 'baptism by fire'. When it is over, you will be a new person. The boy who wore your skin will be gone. The man you will become will have emerged, as a moth from a cocoon.
At that instant Edwynn sneezed violently. It sent a shudder through his whole body. This in turn jarred his leg and pain lanced up from his wound. The boy cried our involuntarily.
"You are wounded? Please allow me." Mythril reached a bloodsoaked hand forward. Edwynn felt himself shrink away in revulsion, This made the elf pause. He knew he was being childish, and forced himself forward. The elf looked at him approvingly but said nothing. Her hand moved aside his torn cloths to reveal the knife wound.
"It is not deep, but the blade was unclean, and this will probably become infected. With your permission, I can use my magic to heal you."
"Yes, please!" Edwynn almost begged. He wondered why she would even ask.
The druid spoke a single word and a green glow flowed from her hands. It covered his body and immediately the pain began to fade.. The skin grew and regenerated, and the wound closed completely. Edwynn smiled at her, and was about to thank her when he sneezed again.
"Your people are not as hardy against the elements as my own. This will help you." She placed her hand on Edwynn forehead. A jolt rippled thru his body and for an instant Edwynn felt his consciousness expand. His mind touched the trees, the birds, the insects. He saw through the eyes of an owl a mile west, and smelled the manor's fire from a family of wolves in a cave just to the north.
The effect was gone in an instant. What remained, however, was a heightened awareness of his surroundings. Edwynn felt more alive; faster and stronger. His mind seemed sharper too. And most importantly, the chill of the rain no longer seemed to bother him.
"What was that?" He asked.
"I have given you the Mark." The druid extended her enormous hand and Edwynn took it. She pulled him to his feet. "You are now touched by the wild. The grace of Cenarius will be with you… for a while at least."
"What happened?"
Mythril's ears did a funny movement. "A boy came to the manor just after sunset. That boy and Myrista went into a room. Several minutes later I heard a window break in the kitchen, and hushed voices. Then men in masks came in, and attacked your people. There were too many to fight, so I slipped away. The men looted the house, and then set fire to it. They ambushed any who came to investigate."
"You couldn't use your magic to save them?"
Mythril shook her head. "If these were just bandits, perhaps. But they were not alone. There were two outsiders among them. A man and a woman, both wearing black traveling cloaks. The woman was a witch, commanding a set of demon hounds. There was no way I could have struck out at them and survived."
"They were hunting for you , weren't they?"
The starlight eyes grew wide, but the elf said nothing. Edwynn set his jaw and stared ferociously into her glowing irises. "Those two people you spoke of, they came to the abbey this afternoon. They were looking for strange beasts, or travelers. They're after you aren't they. And they killed everyone… because of you."
The elves ears drooped somewhat, and Edwynn knew that he had discovered the truth. She said nothing.
"Why? Why were they after you?"
"They are evil, Edwynn DeTemms. Tonight was not the first night of death that has come by their hands. And it will almost certainly not be the last. They worship a dark power. They work now to bring a winter that will see no spring. It is Cenarius's will that I move to oppose them, and I have done so. I have proven to be a small, but well placed thorn, and they would burn the world to pluck me out. I am sorry that they came here, but there was nothing I could do.
"You could have helped! You said you watched as they killed everyone! You could have tried!"
"They did not kill everyone. And I…"
"What?" The boy gasped.
The glowing eyes blinked. "Myrista Crownguard is alive, as is the boy who came to see her. They said they were taking them east, to a stronghold of the brigands."
"We have to rescue them."
Now it was Mythril's turn to gasp. "Who?"
"Us. You and me." Edwynn looked around the forest floor for a moment. He then reached down and picked up the bandit's long ugly knife.
"You are speaking madness, young human. The doe does not enter the nightsaber's den, no matter how many fawn are lost. Your friends are dead."
"We have the element of surprise" Edwynn swung the knife. It had surprisingly good balance. "And we have your magic."
The elf was silent for a moment. She tilted her head and seemed to see Edwynn for the first time. "And so we see the color of your wings, young moth. There will be no changing your mind will there?"
"No." Edwynn tried sheathing the knife in his belt, but it proved too uncomfortable. He simply held it in his hand.
"Very well. But it would be unwise to travel together. Move east along this direction and you will find their path. I will scout ahead and deal with any stray brigands we come across. You may not see me, but I will be with you."
With that, the night elf crouched down on all fours. Instantly her body melted away, and for an split second, Edwynn could see the sleek body of a black panther. A heartbeat later her body melted into the darkness of the forest, until only yellow eyes remained.
"I understand." Edwynn nodded to her and turned and headed east. The eyes followed for a couple of minutes, and then vanished. Edwynn heard the underbrush rustling, and then the darkness and the rain closed in around him. After a quarter of an hour, he found a wide deer trail. Dim moonlight and his enchanted senses showed him fresh horse tracks leading east towards the mountains. Edwynn took a deep breath, readied his knife, and set out after them.
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Mythril sat on a tree branch nearly 15 feet overhead. Her tail lashed with indecision. As the small boy passed beneath her, she shook her head slowly. Whispering a prayer to Elune that his end would be swift and painless, she leapt silently to the ground and began to work her way south towards Stormwind.