The next morning when Arella woke, she opened her eyes to a head of short blond hair below her chin.

"Anders!" The boy mumbled something, still asleep, "Anders, let go!" Arella laughed, pushing him away. Caylus grabbed the boy's ear angrily and yanked him backwards. Anders yelped in pain.

"Hey, what was that for!?" he cried, clutching his ear.

"Oh, stop being so rough with him, Caylus! He's just a boy!"

"Get up. I don't want to waste any time getting back to the tower." the Templar grunted.

"Awww, you want to get rid of me so soon?" Arella pouted, giggling.

"I want to be rid of him soon." he said, pointing to Anders. The boy grinned and waved, gleefully. Arella laughed and helped pack up camp. Karasaad was silent as usual as he went about whatever Arella asked him to do.

As they began walking Anders and Arella picked up their usual chatter.

"-I was so mad, I wanted to blast his head off with a nice bolt of lightning!" Anders ranted, finishing a story of him and another apprentice at the Circle. Arella smiled and looked down at him.

"'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.' Don't let your ability of magic use you, Anders. Let it serve the best in you." she told him.

Caylus laughed in disbelief, "Out of everything that you could possible know, that you don't, you know the Chant of Light?"

"The what?"

"'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.'" he intoned, "It's the Chant of Light. The... Canticle of Transfigurations, I believe."

"That was just something my mother used to tell me. I had no idea it came from somewhere else." Arella mused.

"Your mother, the apostate mage, taught you the Chant?" Caylus asked, sarcastically.

"Well, apparently so!" she said angrily and turned away from him. She strode past him, to walk a bit ahead so she didn't have to look at him.

"Hey, you, shem! Stop, there's-" a male voice called out, but in vain. Arella disappeared out of Caylus' sight as she dropped straight down into a hidden pitfall trap. She landed a second later with a muffled crack and a yelp.

"Arella!" Caylus shouted running to the edge.

"Owww..." came the muttered reply.

Another face popped into view above the pit. A young elven man was peering down at her, "Sorry, I tried to warn you." he said. He looked to his left and suddenly was dragged out of sight, "Hey! Woah, there, put me down!"

Caylus, tensing at the appearance of the elf, chuckled softly, "Karasaad's got him. Hang on, Arella, I'll get you out."

"I didn't do anything to you, giant! Will someone tell this thing to put me down!?"

"Karasaad! Put. The elf. Down!" Arella shouted up at them. There was a thud and the elf grunted, "Caylus, I think my ankle is broken... I cannot climb my way out."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it. If your pet over here hadn't decided I was a plaything, I'd have you out by now." the elf grumbled. There was a rustling noise and he returned with a large branch.

"She just said she couldn't climb, elf." Caylus said.

"Shut up, shem." The elf ignored him and placed the branch over the pit. Crawling onto it, he swung upside down and hung, his arms just in front of Arella's face, "Come on, grab hold."

Arella reached up in confusion, wondering how this tiny elf was going to pull her up. He grasped her forearms and slowly crunched up, clinging tightly to the branch with his legs. As soon as Caylus could reach her hands himself, he grabbed onto her and the elf let go. Arella was pulled up and out of the rest of the pit by Caylus and set on the ground as he heaved from exertion. Anders dashed over and began to heal her ankle. The elf, barely even perspiring, sat perched on his branch and watched them.

"Ummm... thank you for helping me out." Arella smiled at him.

"Just forget you saw me and we'll be even, shemlen." He jumped up to dash away but Karasaad stopped him. Staring down at him with his eternally frowning face, "Care to, um... help out here?" The man asked Arella.

"Andaran atish'an, friend. Was it you who set this trap?" she greeted formally.

"You know elvish?" He narrowed his eyes, "How?"

"My mother had a good friend who was an elf. He taught me many things about your people."

The elf regarded her dubiously, "Well, yes. It was me who set the trap. I was hoping to catch... nevermind. You shems don't need to know."

"Ok, well, what's your name?"

"What do you care?" His ears twitched slightly, picking up on a suspicious sound, "Ssh! They're here! Hide, hide!" He darted up a tree next to him and disappeared in the branches. Not a second later, they heard voices coming up the path. Before they could hide, however, one of the newcomers came into view. There were five men, all heavily clad in armor. When they noticed Karasaad, standing at the head of the group they balked slightly. The leader stepped forward, not intimidated.

"Oh, look. More slaves. Clap them in irons boys. They might be better than those elves we were tracking." he purred.

"Slavers!" Caylus cursed. Arella turned to face them slowly, her anger building.

"You're... slavers?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

"You will speak when spoken to, slave." the man replied. He took a step forward and the elf dropped out of nowhere to stand in front of him.

"My name is Rynar." he said, over his shoulder at Arella, "And these shemlen are after my clan."