Content Warning for: Mild violence. Creepy ancient elven Gods and their weird pets.
This work is also posted on my A03 account. The link to which can be found on my profile. Please check there if you wish to see the link to the original prompt
This work has not been proofread or edited by anyone other than myself. I acknowledge and apologize for any errors still present
"An interesting creature, is he not, Brother?"
"Humph. I see nothing special."
The light surrounding Revas was so bright that he actually felt pain when it hit his eyes. He let out a little hiss between his teeth as he shielded what little of the offensive light he could with his arm as his eyes slowly adjusted. Blearily, he stole glances of the world around him and became aware of two things: first, he was back in the woods outside the temple and secondly, he was not alone. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sleep film from his eyes. His mind stuttered and swam as he tried to put the events of the past few hours to right. The last thing he recalled was being shown to the quarters he would share with Adahl before the last of the adrenaline left his body and he collapsed onto the bed nearest to him. He'd not fallen asleep so much as lost consciousness but he was still quite sure he'd have woken up before venturing outside. The forest felt odd, he realized as he let his free hand caress the soft earth beneath him. It felt as if it were an imitation, a copy made in an expert hand that closely resembled the real thing, but had been unable to capture the true essence. The air was silent, free of the songs of the colorful birds that frequented the highest reaches of the temple. Revas groaned as he sat up and ran his fingers over his face, feeling for the area the vallaslin had been put on to his skin. When pads of his fingers hit smooth skin, he recoiled as if he'd been burned. Even with High Priestess's healing magic, there was no way it could have left completely smooth skin overnight. The vallaslin was either gone, or completely healed and Revas wasn't entirely sure which was worse. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned, suddenly remembering that he was not alone. Four elvhen stood in a tight cluster to his left.
No, he blinked the last of the sleep film from his eyes; it was two elvhen and two smaller creatures that looked almost avian in their appearance. They were identical with long, sharp features and large ovular eyes the color of the midnight sky. Their hair was dark, long and scraggly, slicked back from their faces and showcasing two impressive widow's peaks. As Revas's eyes hit theirs, he shuddered unconsciously and ripped his gaze away. What ever they were, Revas knew he'd never seen anything like them.
"He can see us, Brother. How extraordinary."
The two elvhen eyed Revas, one with unabashed curiosity and the other with an expression of mild contempt. The two of them were not as identical as the dark creatures standing just behind them, but they bore enough of a resemblance that Revas had to assume they were, in fact, brothers. Their heights matched perfectly and they both had the same silvery hair, though one wore his long and flowing and the other had a tight braid resting against his shoulder. They stared at him with eyes as blue as vallaslin pigment. It was unnatural and unnerving.
"Who are you?" Revas asked, his eyes darting between the two strangers.
"It would appear Mother has chosen well," the braided elvhen remarked, ignoring Revas.
"And what of Father's choice?" the other asked.
"Hmm, we'll have to see. It matters little, though. Father always was terrible at following the rules."
"What choice?" Revas demanded, attempting to interrupt their conversation.
"I don't like him."
"I find him fascinating." The braided one took a step towards Revas and reached out as if to brush his fingers against Revas's skin.
"Until you learn all of his secrets, then you'll cast him aside like the others."
"Oh, Brother, still so bitter?" the braided elvhen asked with a smile sliding across his lips.
"Mother overstepped her bounds," the other growled.
The creatures behind the braided elvhen hissed, their identical faces growing dark as their hands rose into claws. Dark veins branched out along their translucent skin and as their mouths opened up in a snarl, Revas could see their teeth were numerous, tiny and jagged. Their master ran his hands over their shoulders soothingly. The creatures stilled, cooing softly as their clawed hands slowly lowered to their sides. Revas felt himself grimace and he dared not to risk staring too closely at the horrid things. He kept his eyes glued to the space between the two elvhen, grateful that his peripheral vision afforded him a good look at the both of them while still limiting his view of the creatures.
"Shh, you're scaring the pets, Brother," the braided elvhen, murmured.
"Void take your foul pets."
The aforementioned pets hissed half-heartedly as their master's fingers swept over their long hair. "Aww, cheer up, Brother. Soon, very soon, we will have great entertainment."
The longhaired elvhen crossed his arms over his chest and harrumphed.
The other elvhen laughed loudly, the sound tore apart the tranquility of the forest. "Oh, but don't you see, Brother? Once Mother and Father have their fun, we'll be able to pick up the scraps."
"You speak too much in the presence of a lesser."
"Who are you?" Revas demanded as he clenched his fists at his sides. When their preternaturally blue gaze fell upon him, he could swear that he actually felt it the weight of it upon his shoulders. He opened and closed his mouth several times as he struggled to think of something else, anything else to say. Instead, he watched as the braided elvhen nodded and flipped his silvery braid behind his shoulder. Together, the two of them turned in perfect unison towards Revas and together said:
"Wake up."
...
Revas's eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. He wasn't in the forest. In fact, he was in the same spot he'd crashed the previous afternoon after his vallaslin ritual. His fingers snapped upwards and groped for the area where his flesh had been inked. His fingertips brushed against scabbed skin and he felt a soft sigh escape his lips. The forest, the twins and those creatures had all been a dream. He was not the sort of man to take stock into dreams, he figured that sort of thing was best left to those smarter and more introspective than he. The appearance of the twins weighed heavily on his mind.
"You're awake, lethallin."
Adahl's voice sounded from behind him, shattering through the endless cacophony of his thoughts. Revas tried to crane his neck to see Adahl, but gave up as his body began to protest the movement.
"Ir abelas," Revas breathed as he sat up, groaning a little from the stiffness of sleeping in one position for…. "How long have I slept?"
Though Revas could not see his friend's face, he could hear the smirk in Adahl's voice: "all afternoon, evening and night. Don't worry, I would have woken you before we are to go to the Ha'am."
"Serannas," Revas said wryly as he rolled off of the raised bed. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the longer hair at the nape of his neck. Turning over his shoulder, he saw Adahl standing by a small window, staring out into the trees outside the room. "How do you feel?"
Adahl glanced in his direction and offered him a half smile. "I endure, as always," he quipped. His expression turned stormy as he looked away. "Nehn haunts my mind."
The unbidden image of the pretty blonde-headed priestess flashed in his mind. The sound of her soft breath echoed in his ears; he wondered about her, what had become of the confident initiate. Though Revas had witnessed a few failed vallaslin rituals in his youth, they were still rare enough to cause a stir amongst the temple denizens. "Perhaps now that we are able to go inside the temple we'll see her among the other novice priestesses."
His friend nodded softly, the corners of his mouth still turned down. It was odd to see the usually bright Adahl looking so downtrodden. Revas turned away and swiftly unbuckled his old len'am armor. He piled it neatly, gently on top of his bed and picked up his Sentinel gear. He ran his fingers over the beautiful, coppery plate and smiled. It took him little time to get dressed, especially when Adahl withdrew from the window and helped latch the buckles that were particularly troublesome to reach. Wordlessly, the two elvhen switched positions and Revas deftly helped to fasten the still-loose buckles on Adahl's new armor. When they finished, Revas watched as Adahl slunk back toward the window.
"And how do you fare?" his friend asked, without turning around.
Revas stilled and took a silent inventory of himself. The scabbed skin felt dry and itchy, despite the High Priestess's use healing magic. His body felt stiff and sore from sleeping in the one position for so many hours, but physically he truly felt no changes. Revas was a Sentinel now and an elvhen past the age of maturation. It was foolish, he supposed, to imagine that receiving his vallaslin would change him so drastically. Yet, as a child he'd always imagined that reaching this stage of his life would somehow unlock the answer to every question he'd ever have drift through his mind.
"Honestly, I feel the same as always." Revas ran his fingertips over the lightly scabbing markings, letting his magic soothe the discomfort away. His mind shifted as his thoughts turned back to his odd dreams. "You were asleep when they came for the ritual."
Adahl looked over his shoulder at Revas. "Is that a statement or a question?"
"An observation."
"You were asleep almost immediately. Nehn and I were up for quite a while. We fell asleep at some point, I suppose."
Revas nodded thoughtfully. "When you slept, did you dream?"
His friend's expression shifted, where yesterday, the jovial glint in Adahl's eyes had been was suddenly replaced with something darker, feral-like. The elvhen's brow furrowed deeply, the newly scabbed flesh of his forehead pulled his skin taught in odd places. "Aye. The All-Father spoke to me."
Revas couldn't pull back on the gasp that burst out from between his lips. "Elgar'nan? What did he say?"
Adahl looked away swiftly. "Nothing of import. Why, did you dream?"
"Yes," Revas answered quickly. He was about to mention his conversation with Mythal when the realization of the twins' identity hit him. In less than the spans of a day, he'd dreamt of not only Mythal, but also of Dirthamen and Falon'din. His mind flashed back to the twins mentioning their father's choice and something deep within Revas' heart told him to keep his dreams secret. He looked away from Adahl, just as his friend had done to him. "I dreamt of my mother. Why do you think you dreamt of Elgar'nan?"
"It matters not. Only a foolish dream," Adahl answered as he pulled his hood up and over his dark head. "Come, lethallin, we should leave. It wouldn't due to be late on our first day."
The finality of Adahl's dismissal sat poorly in Revas' mind. Not even the most foolhardy of elvhen could mistake the wretchedness encasing his friend's heart.
...
With their gleaming Sentinel armor in perfect condition, Adahl and Revas rushed out of their quarters and out towards the Sentinel's practice yard. Unlike the area for the younger len'am, the initiated Sentinels practiced and trained within the walls of the temple, closer to their charges while still maintaining the respectful distance custom dictated. It was a Sentinel's duty to watch and protect, but never interfere with the daily activities within the temple's walls. The Sentinels were silent guards, to be seen rarely and heard even less.
Now that he wasn't under the effects of adrenaline, Revas was finally able to get a better look at the inside of the temple as he and Adahl raced to the practice yard. The sheer enormity of the temple overwhelmed him. He'd always known that it was large, as it had to be to accommodate the priestesses, the Sentinels, the visiting penitents and the occasional guest of state within its walls. Yet, as he struggled to keep up with Adahl it seemed as if everywhere he looked was a different hallway, a new branching path waiting to be explored. It was also even grander than he had imagined, and the Sentinels lived in modest conditions compared to the priestesses or the guest quarters. There were huge white columns capped with golden filigree and ogee arches looming overhead, tall enough to accommodate the giants themselves. They passed through an open-air courtyard, with patterned cobblestones in a swirling design and beautiful blooming trees bent over stonework benches that sat empty and in less-than-perfect repair. It stood as a testament to the dedication of his brothers and sisters, Revas decided, that even though such beauty surrounded them, they took their duties too seriously to spend the time in leisure.
The practice yard was silent as they entered it. Their initiated brethren already stood lined up in two rows and ready as Adahl and Revas fumbled their way through to their positions across from each other. The Ha'am stood at the front of the line, an ancient elvhen by the name of Marcel. He stared at the two of them from over his long, hooked nose with eyes that were narrowed with disdain. After a moment he cleared his throat and walked down the line with silent, graceful steps. When he neared the two of them, Revas instinctively stood straighter and held his head just a little higher. The ancient elvhen came to a stop in front of Revas and turned on his heel to stare deep into the young Sentinel's eyes. Revas bit the inside of his cheek to keep his face as neutral and steady as possible, though all the while his heart beat a frantic staccato in his chest.
"You," the Ha'am creaked out. "Name?"
"Revas, Hahren."
"Revas," the elder repeated. "An ironic name for one with the vallaslin. A wish from your mother, perhaps?"
"I do not know, I never knew her."
"Tell me, Revas, do you wish for freedom? Will you walk the path alone and unaided?"
"I did not choose my name, Hahren. It has no significance to me." The elder opened his mouth to retort, but Revas continued, effectively interrupting him, "I am precisely where I wish to be, Hahren."
He met Marcel's eyes head on, after a moment the elder man seemed satisfied, and he turned to repeat the process to Adahl.
"Name?" Marcel asked.
"Adahl."
"You are…troubled. What lies so heavily in your heart, da'len?"
He could almost hear the flush in Adahl's cheeks as his friend stumbled for an answer. "I-I," he stammered before the young elvhen finally cleared his throat. "There is nothing weighing on me that will interfere with my duties, Hahren."
Revas watched the back of Marcel for some sign of thought or feeling. There was none, but as a small ripple echoed throughout the lines of Sentinels, Revas had the feeling that Adahl had done something worth noting. Marcel's shoulders twitch before he murmurs, "as you wish, da'len." He turned so that his body was facing both of them before he continued, "you'll both walk the wall. The rest of you, to your duties."
Walking the wall was an occupation Revas had heard tale of while he was still a len'am. The Sentinels tasked with it were to patrol along the outermost walls of the temple, keeping their eyes glued to the surrounding forests for any sign of danger. It was typically an introductory duty for young Sentinels, though it was much bemoaned for the sheer boredom associated with it. The last time the temple had been under any danger had been hundreds of annaren before Revas had even been born. Revas sighed in spite of himself; he'd hoped for a task more exciting, despite the uselessness of such wishes. A quick glance to Adahl and Revas saw his friend still standing defiant, shoulders held back and his hooded face uncharacteristically glowering into the open air. Worry gripped Revas's heart with icy hands. He'd known Adahl for the whole of his life and been his spar-partner since they had been old enough to heft swords. Out of all the other len'am, Revas had always considered Adahl his true brother and friend. Though their personalities had clashed often, with his quiet reserve rarely able to find true enjoyment in Adahl's cheeky humor, Revas had never truly wished for his friend to change so dramatically. In fact, there had occasionally been a certain comfort found within Adahl's steadfast joviality. A heavy hand on his shoulder pulled Revas's mind out of the spiraling void of his melancholic thoughts. He turned and found himself staring into the faces of four Sentinels.
"You're to walk the wall with us, lethallin?"
He nodded, stealing a glance towards Adahl who'd dropped his sneer and was watching the exchange with passive interest.
"Good. I am Samahl, I will take you to your post."
...
It took three vunen of walking the wall before Adahl's mood returned to a shadow of its former self. The first time Revas heard his old friend crack a quick joke; he'd been too shocked to offer an encouraging laugh. When pressed for an explanation, Adahl only shrugged and changed the subject. After that, it was half an annar before Alana had her vallaslin ritual. With the branches of the Tree of Mythal etched on to her face with dark blue ink, she proudly joined the ranks of the Sentinels and took her place on the wall. They became a tightly knit group over time, working together in a single cohesive form. Time marched around them and each day passed with no threat approaching Mythal's sacred walls.
Eventually, as len'am received their vallaslin and the elder Sentinels were reassigned, Revas and Adahl found themselves the senior-most Sentinels tasked with watching the forests. Adahl had come back into himself more and more as time had passed. Yet, every so often, he'd awake in a foul melancholy and remain lingering in a state of perpetual depression for several days before it'd eventually pass. When he was in such a way, Revas had learned to give his old friend a wide birth. He'd once taken a fist to his face when he asked why his friend's mood would shift so rapidly. Another time and he'd simply received a quick mumble about an unpleasant dream. As for Revas's own dreams after his visit from the twin elvhen, his nights had been uninterrupted. In time, he stopped thinking about the dreams entirely and simply chalked them up to the nerves about his vallaslin ritual. Four years came and went peacefully; life within the temple walls was uneventful.
Until one day, it wasn't.
It was mid-morning when Revas was called down from the wall. Marcel eyed him carefully, ancient eyes sweeping over his form to check for anything out of place. Revas met the Ha'am's gaze evenly and when the elder elvhen finally nodded, Revas felt himself relax ever so slightly.
"Good," Marcel's creaking voice said. "You'll be in the judgment chamber today."
Revas blinked, "Hahren?"
"Have you ever been to Arlathan, da'len?"
"No, Hahren. I was brought here as a babe in arms."
"Ah, yes. Ripped from your mother's breast and sold into servitude, no doubt," the elder murmured. Revas shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his bodyweight to his left side, trying not to imagine the phantom figure of a mother screaming for him. Marcel, oblivious to Revas's discomfort, continued, "an important figure from Arlathan, a noble, has submitted himself to Mythal's judgment."
"This is momentous?"
"Aye, da'len. The powerful in Arlathan will mark their servants and slaves with the vallaslin, but only in an effort to curry favor. For someone of such stature to prostrate themselves before Mythal, its hardly something I ever expected to see."
"I thought that the Elvhen sought the judgment of Mythal often."
"Aye, the people do. The powerful, the nobles do not. They war amongst themselves for whatever scraps they can take. This, da'len, is quite out of the ordinary. The High Priestess shall be overseeing the judgment personally and wants as many Sentinels in attendance as can be spared."
"Will Adahl be joining as well?"
"No. Adahl is not ready for such an opportunity."
Revas opened his mouth to ask yet another question, but was immediately shushed and ushered through the temple towards the main judgment chamber. He was taken to a side alcove, a bow and quiver pushed into his hands and shoved through a doorway and out through an opening into the chamber. The room was massive, richly splendid with its white marble and golden walls. He stood atop a tall platform, erecting so high that even the tallest elvhen standing on the floor below would have to crane their necks to look upon anyone who stood on its surface. He was flanked on either side by statues depicting Mythal and behind him a large cloverleaf archway. The floor below him was tiled, with differing shades of gold arranged in an artful pattern. On either side of the floor below were smaller daises for spectators. Fires burned in small pyres below and overhead the richly enameled ceiling was interspersed with large open areas for the sunlight to stream in. Revas could see immediately the ease in which anyone in this chamber would find themselves submitting to Mythal. He couldn't find the words within his own mind to express the sheer power felt within this chamber's walls. Marcel took Revas by the shoulders and guided him back to the wall, out of sight in the shadows.
"Your job, da'len, shall be to watch for danger. Do not worry, though, there is no one foolish enough to attack the High Priestess herself. Stay out of sight and if there is danger, it is your duty to escort the High Priestess out of the chamber. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Hahren."
"Good. Your brothers and sisters have already taken their places, this is your opportunity to get off the wall. Do not disappoint."
"Yes, Hahren," Revas repeated.
When Marcel left him alone, Revas took the opportunity to cast one more glance about the chamber. This time, however, his gaze stuck to the shadows. Through the haze of pyre smoke and the dust mites swirling through the air, he could see the telltale glimmer of shining bronze armor indicating where his brethren stood their silent guard. He felt no eyes upon him, as it was not a Sentinel's duty to watch their brothers. So, he turned his golden eyes towards the temple floor and waited. It wasn't long before the lower doors opened and people began to stream in. He noted that the priestesses in their flowing white robes stood in a tight cluster, away from the penitents. After a moment, the steady stream of people halted and the groups made their way off of the patterned tile floor in the middle and up on to the respective daises. There was a sudden hushed murmur that passed through the crowd of people as several darkly clad elvhen strode in, flanking an elder. The elder was sharply dressed, in clothes finer than Revas had ever seen. With rich purple silk draped over his shoulders and a splendid white fur collar around his neck, Revas knew he could be no one other than the noble prepared to submit himself. He was escorted to stand in front of the platform and went out of Revas' line of sight underneath the lip of the raised edge. The young Sentinel silently stepped through the darkness until he could see the entire room and watched as the noble eased himself to a kneeling position on the floor. Following him, another elvhen strode through the door. He was surrounded with more guards, but was in less finery. Though he was far away, Revas could see the malice plainly etched on the second man's face as he took a kneeling position next to the first man.
The sound of a staff colliding with stone echoed through the still chamber. Revas craned his neck towards the archway to see. There was nothing but silence as a figure appeared in the darkness of the opening. The High Priestess strode silently, dancer-like to the edge of the platform. The elder elvhen's face was neutral, and staring at the crowds below over her nose. A small movement behind her drew Revas' attention. He felt the corners of his lips twitch as he saw the familiar ebon-haired priestess arranging the flowing train of the High Priestess's robes. Four annaren was hardly a blink in their lives, but still he stared at her and tried to discern if there were any small changes to the woman before him. Sulahnni moved as lithely as any len'am as she deftly adjusted the High Priestess's large headdress. She disappeared for a moment before reappearing in an instant at the elder's side, head bowed and holding up a jeweled scepter. The High Priestess took it and tapped the end of it against the tiled floor. Sulahnni stepped to the side, hands clasped before her and head held proudly high.
"When the all-father defeated his father, the sun, his pride wrought darkness upon the world. It was only when Mythal, the all-mother and protector of all, arose from the sea and delivered her wisdom unto Elgar'nan that the world once again saw light. Through Mythal's judgment, all who are worthy may seek justice and true redemption," the High Priestess said, her voice booming and echoing off of the white marble. Her gaze shifted downward to the nobles before her. "You, Arlas, are here to seek the judgment of Mythal?"
The purple-clad noble, Arlas, rose from his knee. "I am, Priestess."
"And will you abide by her wisdom?"
"I shall, Priestess."
"Very well, I shall hear the offense committed."
The second noble rose to his feet. "Priestess, this alas'lin has defiled my house and sullied my good name."
"A grave accusation; how was this offense committed?"
Movement pulled Revas's focus away from the proceedings. His golden gaze snapped towards the motion and he saw three elvhen standing amongst the penitents slowly moving forward through the crowd. He shifted, moving closer to the platform as the elvhen reached the head of the grouping. It was then he noticed the second noble shifting on his feet, his hands playing with the seam of his green velvet coat. A quick glance towards his guards whose hands were slowly disappearing to unseen pockets within their garments was all Revas needed before he felt that familiar blaze of pleasure wash over him. In an instant, his hands grasped for his quiver, nocked an arrow and held his bowstring taut as he leapt out of the shadows and stood at the lip of the platform.
"For Daern'thal!" the attackers cried in unison as they brandished their weapons.
Revas loosed his first arrow before their battle cry had left their lips. The arrow whistled through the air and struck one of the nobleman's guards in the chest. Operating solely on instinct and muscle memory, Revas reached behind him and pulled another arrow from his quiver, nocked and loosed it. He moved as he pulled the bowstring back and released it again, another arrow whistling through the air as he made his way towards the High Priestess and Sulahnni. The other Sentinels had sprung into action and he could hear the sounds of battle filling the chamber around them. Revas watched out of the corner of his eye as the noble in the green coat pulled a dagger from his pocket and threw it at the High Priestess. The elder woman stood frozen, fear etched plainly on her lined face. Revas dropped his bow and grabbed the elder around the middle, hauling her to the ground. From behind him, Revas felt a sudden tingle in the air and he whirled around just in time to see the dagger bounce harmlessly off of a blue-tinged barrier. Sulahnni stood at the edge of the platform, her arm outstretched and pretty face screwed up in determination. His eyes widened as she picked up his dropped bow and nocked his discarded arrow. She loosed it and the resulting cry below them told him her aim had been true. She turned back to him and tossed him the bow. He caught it deftly and stared at her as she knelt next to the High Priestess. The sounds of battle below the platform echoed around them and Revas longed to leap into the fray, but he knew his duty. He slung the bow around his shoulder before taking a knee on the side of the High Priestess and helped Sulahnni haul the woman to her feet. At the elder's soft groan of pain, guilt pooled in his belly. With one arm each slung around the youth's shoulders, they helped the Priestess hobble out of the chamber and into safety. The sounds of battle faded and the soft sounds of throat-cutters doing their duty filled his ears. They paused in front of a large mosaic of Mythal and Revas watched as Sulahnni reached up and pushed one of the tiles in. Her movements were too quick for him to make a note of which tile she had pressed. There was a clank behind the mosaic and slowly the stone wall to their right shifted and eased open. Sulahnni gestured with her head for them to go through the opening. As they did, Revas realized they were standing within the walls themselves, in a network of secret passageways that had to run the gamut of the temple. He couldn't help the sharp intake of air that reverberated around them. The two women said nothing, but through the meager torchlight, Revas was certain he saw Sulahnni smirk.
"Daern'thal," the elder woman muttered bitterly as the trio clambered through the darkened corridor.
Sulahnni remained silent and Revas, being unsure if he was permitted to speak, said nothing.
After traveling through the corridor for what felt like miles, they came to a stop in front of a lever. Sulahnni pulled it and natural light spilled into the passageway. Shocked gasps and worried cries greeted them as they stepped back into the temple. Revas stole a glance around and he realized suddenly, that he was standing within the priestess's living quarters, a place that Sentinels were not permitted to be. Eight women stood in front of them, but paid him no mind as their focus was fixed entirely on the elder woman in the middle of their trio. They surged forward in a blur of white and pulled the High Priestess away. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what he should do. A soft whisper of fabric shifting pulled his focus and he found himself staring at Sulahnni. Her hands were clasped delicately in front of her and she held herself with a spine as straight as one the white column she stood beside. Her violet gaze bore into him, her face unreadable. Slowly the woman dipped her head to him.
"Thank you, Sentinel," she murmured.
"Revas," he corrected without thinking.
She blinked and seemed to consider him for a moment before she answered, "Sulahnni."
"I know. Good day, Priestess." He bowed slightly at the waist and turned to leave, but not before he caught the way her eyes widened in surprise at his admission.
Translations:
Ir abelas - Basically, I'm sorry.
Ha'am - ha, elder. Am, protector. Elder Protector. The Sentinel that Revas/Abelas and Adahl report to.
Serannas - An informal thank you. 'Thanks'.
Vun+en - Vunin, day. En, suffix indicating plural.
Annar - Year (Annaren, years)
Alas'lin - alas, dirt. Lin, blood. Dirty blood.
Samahl - laughter
So I use Scrivener to write and its usually a really great program if you don't mind plunking some money down and learning how to use it. However, I forgot that it has an auto-correct feature. Which, when I'm writing things that don't involve con-languages is perfectly fine. However, when you write 'elvhen' and it automatically corrects it to 'eleven' the feature quickly becomes a nuisance. So, I apologize for all of the errors present in the last update. I corrected as many as I could find and turned off auto-correct. Ugh. Talk about embarrassing. It doesn't help that I type fast anyway, so I'm prone to typos and I stare at these words for so long I can't even see the mistakes half the time until after I let it sit a few days post-publishing. Blegh. I am booked pretty solidly with my work, but I will definitely endeavor to make the wait a lot less for chapter 3.
As always, this work has been cross-posted at the original prompt and on my A03 (the link to which is found in my profile) along with the link to my tumblr, come say Hi to me! :)
Thank you all so much for reading!