Chapter 2

It had been many months since Rihar had arrived in the village of Aelwyd. The flamekin had been welcoming, accepting him as one of their own almost immediately; they had given him a knife and bow, and had traded with some kithkin for materials so he could make himself a new set of clothes and armour. Once his wounded left arm had recovered Rihar had been allowed out to hunt with the others to earn his keep. He had learnt much from watching them, as beings of fire they had to still not only their breathing but their whole body whilst tracking, and they could move silently through the forest in a way completely new to Rihar.

Most days followed the same pattern: wake up, bathe in the river that ran behind the house, get dressed, check that his knife is sheathed and nothing obstructs the ability to draw it, check that his bow is newly strung and oiled then head to the communal hall for the morning meal. After eating there was a brief respite, then Rihar and the other hunters would head to the training ground in the west of the village for practice. Normally Rihar only sparred for half the time of the others, as he seemed to have an almost instinctual grasp of combat. Once training was over the hunters were allowed a couple hours to rest and relax, Rihar almost always took this time to wander the trails around the village, learning all the hidden paths and potential spots for traps. Most of the remainder of the day was spent hunting springjack and the occasional cervin when they could be found. It was rare the hunt went badly, and the hunters always returned with food for the evening meal, some of which would be set aside for the next morning's broth, some for the stockpile and some would be given as an offer to the greater elementals. But today was going to be different…

Rihar and the other hunters crept silently towards the herd of cervin, staying downwind so their scent would go unnoticed. Darting from tree to tree Rihar pulled ahead of the other three, he reached a spot with a clear sight-line to the beasts and pulled out his bow. He notched an arrow and drew back the string, steadied his breathing and made ready to fire. Suddenly there was a whistling noise and the bow snapped in half, followed by a dull thump. Rihar turned sharply to his right to see a curved, almost leaf-shaped, blade stuck in the tree to his right, dripping with an oily black liquid that seemed to burn the bark of the tree as it ran down. Spinning to his left Rihar barely managed to dodge away from the slash of his assailant, rolling backwards to avoid a second attack. The swordsman rose up, and finally he was cast into light. A tall elf clad in a black cloak and with a face painted in the dark green hues of the lowest leaves stood before him, with a long barbed sword held in his right hand and an arrogant smirk on his face. As he stared at the creature before him Rihar felt and old anger rising within him, this was one of the beasts that had killed his family and tried to kill him, the fact that this was obviously a high caste elf rather than an eyeblight mattered naught, it was going to die for attacking him.

"Who are you?" He called to the elf. "I am Shaddix, a Winnower of the Mornsong" replied the elf. "What does a Winnower want with me, I thought you were tasked with hunting eyeblights and deserters?""You have been declared an enemy of the elves, and as such we are tasked with eliminating you on sight" explained Saddix."What is this about, the only elves I've ever met were eyeblight bandits who attacked my caravan""That is only one of the charges against you, for one those eyeblights were being hunted by a Winnower, which is how we came to know of your existence, and as such were not yours to kill. The second charge is that whilst they were eyeblights, they were still elves, and no other being should dare even draw a blade against an elf. Finally, you have been declared an insult to our race, you look almost the same as one of us and yet you are not one of us. You are far too ugly to be classed anywhere near us, but any other being might look at you and assume you are one of us, this is unacceptable." Throughout this explanation Rihar's eyes had once more began to turn red as his anger grew."Well firstly, I'll kill whichever elves I choose, second I will draw my blade against who I choose and finally, don't you DARE compare me to one of your disgusting race!" with that Rihar drew his dagger, a simple weapon forged of steel and sprinted towards the Winnower. As he drew within range the elf's sword came down, but he sidestepped and darted past his opponents guard. His dagger sped towards the elf's left arm, but he turned and span past Rihar. The blade came round again and cut into the flesh of Rihar's left arm. Ignoring the pain he used the opportunity to stab deep into the Winnower's stomach. The elf let out a cry and leapt backward, pulling his sword back to guard against a further attack. Rihar felt a strange sensation within himself, and flashes of images, of mountains and canyons, flickered before his eyes. They weren't the crags around the village; they seemed unlike anything in Lorwyn. His hands began to grow warm, when suddenly realisation hit him, where were the other hunters? He began to look round, hoping to catch a flash of fire from amongst the trees."Oh, you've noticed?" called Shaddix, "Don't expect a rescue, your fellow hunters are dead, at least they burnt all the moonglove poison off my sword, or you'd be dead already."With that Rihar felt the fury rise within, and this time he didn't try to hold it down, he let it consume him, filling him with a sense of power. He brought a hand up and pointed it towards the elf, and somehow he spoke words he'd never heard in his life, in some strange language. The elf's face to turned to dread, what was this sickening creature doing? Before he could react an arc of flame flew from Rihar's hand and struck the elf, lighting his armour on fire. The blaze continued to stream out, incinerating the elf completely as well as the trees behind him. Somehow nothing else was set alight, but none of that mattered to Rihar. His eyes returning to normal he dropped to his knees, exhausted. What in the name of the greater elementals had just happened? Some flamekin were able to control their bodies to project fire, but nothing like what he'd just done. Slowly he dragged himself up to his feet using the nearest tree and walked over to the combusted remains of the elf. The Winnower's sword still lay beside him where he'd dropped it in shock and Rihar picked it up and thrust it through his belt. Without warning an agonising burning began to pierce his left arm. In all the confusion his brain hadn't had time to register the damage that had been inflicted on him in the fight. Clenching his teeth Rihar began the long trek back to Aelwyd where he intended to go straight to Ashling, something told him she would know what had happened, and he needed answers.

Sorry this was so late up, I thought I uploaded it ages ago, evidently not. I'm about to start the next chapter and as always any comments are appreciated.