8

John woke, feeling slightly strange, and got out of the bed. The sun glinted though the opening of the cavern where it hit Morrisa's scales and danced along the walls. Sherlock was already awake, sat in the sunlight at the mouth of the cavern. As if hearing the other awake, he turned round and smiled. John smiled back tentatively and got dressed. He hadn't been awake four minutes when a plate of fruit was pushed into his hands and he was given three minutes to eat before they left.

Sherlock and John made their way to the same spot that they trained in the day before. Once they had sat down, the elf turned to the other man,

'What is the name for fire?' John answered without hesitation,

'Brisinger.' Sherlock nodded.

'Water?'

'Adurna'

'Mountain?'

'Fell'

'Stone?'

'Stenr'

'lightning?' John frowned, he hadn't been taught this one yesterday but his lips moved of their own accord,

'kveykva.' Sherlock smiled and John's confusion only deepened. He looked to the elf for an explanation, which the other gladly gave.

'It took just under a decade to teach the last human who entered here the Ancient Language, so while you slept, Morrisa gave you all the knowledge that she had on the subject. You now know every word in our language and how the language works. So, say, if you wanted to ask someone something and you don't want them to lie, you can speak in the Ancient Tongue and if they are indeed trying to be truthful, they will do the same.' He saw the expression on the others face. 'Ah, I must have forgot to mention that yesterday, it is impossible to lie in the Ancient Language.' The blond nodded, he doubted the elf knew why because if he did he would have said it. The training carried on much the same as the day before, only without having to stop to learn new phrases.

When the two stopped for a lunch break, Sherlock gave John a metal chain necklace with a shiny black stone as a pendant. John put it round his neck then asked what it was for,

'It can hold energy for you to use, it already has some in it but I would advise you to stock it up when ever you have energy to spare. When you use this, you don't use the energy in yourself at the time but neither do you draw energy from what is around you.' John tentatively extended his mind to the black orb, he had been practising it with Morrisa when he got the chance but he was still shaky and he couldn't usually hold his mind out for long. Once he got to the orb, he felt a power inside. The energy was more than he had ever felt before but the stone still felt empty somehow, as if it could hold many thousand times more than what was inside. John retracted his mind and thanked the other for the gift, he knew it would come in very useful at some point.

Again, the sun set far too early for either man's liking as they made their way back up the slope to the cavern. Sherlock looked up and sighed.

'It's going to rain tomorrow.' John looked up, the sky was as clear as he'd ever seen it, surely the elf was mistaken? Then again, the taller male held the air of a man who had never been mistaken in his life.

'Now that's not true. I have been mistaken before and I do occasionally get things wrong. Just not often.' John laughed, though the other hadn't entered his mind, he knew exactly what the blond had been thinking. To any sane person, that would have been disturbing to say the least but John found it amusing and fascinating. He chuckled to himself, he had often been told he must be insane, though it was because he had never taken any interest in the woman that had flocked before him. The guilt twinged again but it wasn't as strong and it only lasted for less than a second before fading back. He thoughts were interrupted by the elf's low voice,

'I don't think I need to teach you anymore about magic, you have learnt all you'll need. You're fighting ability is quite astounding for a human, however; you would not last ten seconds against an elf.' Anger flared behind John's eyes, Sherlock sensed this and handed him a stick. They stood, facing each other at the mouth of the cavern. From inside, Morrisa growled.

'Of course I'll be careful. What do you take me for?' Then the elf attacked. The speed at which he did so almost made John freeze up. His body worked independently from his mind and brought the stick up the block the attack. They sparred for what felt like hours, though the blond knew it had been less than a minute. The elf moved with stamina and grace, the likes of which the doctor had never seen before. John suddenly felt he legs fall from underneath him and he found himself flat on his back with the tip of a stick pressed lightly against his neck. He was panting hard but Sherlock wasn't even a little breathless. The elf offered a hand to the man on the floor,

'You lasted long than I thought you would.' John nodded and accepted the hand, pulling himself up.

In a smaller room, just off the main living space, there was a bathroom complete with a shower. John had found this while he had been waiting for Sherlock to return from the hall. The cold water spayed on his back and soothed his aching shoulder, he could have had the temperature at what ever he wanted but he enjoyed the feeling of cold water on his skin. Once he had finished, he changed into the clothes that Sherlock had put on the chair just outside for him. He pulled on the trousers, then lifted the long-sleeved tunic and couldn't help but smile. It was the same tan colour as his old one but it was made of wool stroked his fingers along the fabric. He put the tunic on, it reminded him of home half forgotten memories flooded back to him.

It was summer, Harry had left the house in a sprint. She wanted freedom to live her life but dad had given her three men to choose from. Being 16, she was expected to marry. The problem was that she didn't like any of the suitors. Mostly because she didn't like men. John was the only one in the family that knew about her…differences and had sworn not to tell anyone. Clara, her secret girlfriend of two years, broke up their relationship as soon as she realised that Harry was to be married to someone else. Dad found out about his daughters sexuality then and she stormed out, yells of rage spewing from the house behind her.

John had watched her leave from the barn and ran to meet her, he carried a pack with spare clothes, a dagger and food. Though he was younger, John had always been the one who looked after his sister. He didn't know why, it just felt like the right thing to do. Harry thanked him and handed him a note. Dad had thought it important that both his children be literate so they both knew how to read and write with relative ease. The blond woman then took the pack and left into the night. John ran back to the barn and opened the letter;

My dearest John,

I'm sorry I have to leave you. I don't know if I'll come back. I always thought it strange, the only one who truly understood me was my younger brother. Still, I guess that is the way of the world.

Go to my room, I have left you a parting gift on my bed.

Please, don't look for me.

Harry

xxx

John ran to the house and climbed through the window into his sisters room. On the bed, there lay a item of clothing. The boy lifted it to find it was a woollen jumper, one that Harry had made. His sister didn't like to sow or weave because she saw them as 'women jobs'. Instead she preferred to work in the field. John hugged the jumper close, she wouldn't make any clothing for anyone but him and now she was gone.

John came back to the real world to find tear tracks trailing down his face. Sherlock was watching him curiously from the seat in the kitchen. The doctor washed his face, then tried to smile. The end result was a cracked, lifeless imitation of what he was trying to achieve but it would have to do. The elf sat down next to him and wrapped an arm round his shoulders. Morrisa spread a wing to envelop the two men so that they were pressed against her side and the three fell into silent slumber while the clouds moved overhead.