Chapter 2

"Mom, please-."

"No! You will not go into that village you thief!" Mom hacked into her hands, blood and spittle spraying across them and her sheets. She had gotten so much worse.

"I need herbs to make more paste Mom, you've been too long without treatment-."

She screamed incoherently, her eyes blazing. She was bandaged and smelly and bloody, and she wouldn't let me leave.

I had tried to go to Ranger training the day before, and well, that hadn't ended well…

Hack, slash, dip, throw.

I was sparring with a dummy, the odd one out, while everyone else focused on survival exercise. The beauty of living so deep into the wilderness was that I knew all of that already.

"Teir!"

I flinched hard, whipping around to see my mother, haggard and grey, stumbling forward, an old staff the only thing keeping her upright.

Laughter and pity hummed through the other rangers, but I had to focus on Mom, "Mom? What are you doing here? How-?"

My head whipped to the side as she slapped me across the face, and I knew we had an audience now.

"How dare you?!" she screeched, "How dare you leave while I sleep and sneak away for your own selfish reasons! We are going home!"

"Mom-." I was so lost, "I'm in training, remember?"

Her eyes blazed with old rage, and it hit me-her memory.

"I told you no! You are too young to be here you brat! You leave me after your father-." She stiffened, and I sighed, looking around for any kind of help.

The rangers all laughed, but one was still, watching. Sylvanas. The second child of Talanas, the newest Ranger General after Alleria had left, and one of the most gorgeous elves I had ever seen.

I dragged my eyes away, looking at Mom pleadingly, "Mom, you're weak. Can you please sit and let me finish up, then-."

She hit me with her staff. I went down, less because of the force and more because of shock, and she loomed over me, "Listen to me you wretch! I am your Mother and we are going home, now!"

I shook, shock, hurt and fear mingling into a grumbly cocktail in my veins.

"Ma'am, you need to leave."

Sylvanas, thank the light.

She whirled on the blonde elf, her face twisted in agony and rage as a piece of skin shellacked off of her cheek, "Not without my daughter, you twisted-." She stopped, looking at her for a moment, "Alleria?"

Sylvanas flinched hard, "I am not my sister." She turned to me, eyes blazing, "Take this woman home, Tortheldrin."

And so I had, and now she was a raving lunatic.

I was desperate. It had been nearly a month since I had gone to market, my game was going to rot and we needed food.

I snapped, "Daar!" I flexed my hand, and the small sleeping spell dropped her onto her pillows, head lolling to the side as she was knocked out. Guilt slammed into me, along with pain, but I couldn't handle her when she wasn't lucid.

Tears pouring down my face, I shoved my arms into my duster and hauled my thankfully still good game into the town.

People knew not to talk to me when I was this angry, and Laevia simply mumbled a greeting and helped take up my burden, keeping her morbid obsessions to herself. Strider gave me extra gold and a pie from his mate, and Nalia gave me gloves. I gathered all we needed, and sat on the palate among my bags of food, tears burning my eyes and skin as they trickled. My hair was in knots in the wire, and I gave up on trying to get it out. We had barely any money left, and only enough food for maybe a fortnight.

I took my mortar and pestle, along with the fresh herbs, and began to grind them up, postponing returning to that house and the rank smell of sickness that permeated it. I saw people look at me with pity, but I didn't care. My eye felt swollen from being hit and my leg had a dragon hawk egg sized bruise from her staff. My back ached from a night of balancing carefully over administering medicine, and my eyes burned from no sleep.

I was falling apart, but I couldn't let her die.

My hands also stung from where the apothecary had struck me. He had been abroad, travelling the human lands, and had come back with recipes for all sorts of elixirs. I had tried to buy some of the healing ones, to test on Mom, but he wouldn't accept. He had been especially angry when I tried to take them anyway.

I sighed, setting aside the mortar and looking out to the river, which separate the southern and northern chunks of the realm. Rangers patrolled the water's edge, and a couple nodded to me when I raised my hand in greeting.

I looked up at the sun and realised it had been nearly four hours since I had left Mom unconscious, and took up my load to return home. A small, selfish part of me wanted to never go back, to leave her to The Mist, and to flee to Silvermoon, or to the village, or anywhere.

But she was my only living family, I must care for her until the end.

I returned home, sending a silent prayer in thanks when I found that she was still asleep, and I carefully hid the grain and porridge, as well as the medicines, and the duster. She mustn't know I left. I managed to free the wire from my hair, and I let it hang in a chaotic mess while I tended to Mom's wounds. I was rewrapping one of the worse ones when she awoke.

"Tyrannus…?" she mumbled, her eyes bleary, and I felt pain in my chest.

I had a brother, who was much older than me. He died when I was two in a troll raid. According to pictures, we looked alike.

"No Mom, it's me, Teir." I said softly, but her face didn't show recognition.

"Tyrannus! Help!" she cried out, scared, and I backed away, watching soberly as she calmed herself and passed out in a cold sweat again, the perspiration beading on her forehead.

I sighed heavily, mopping her up with a clean cloth and cool water, whispering reassurance as she twitched in her sleep. She was so frail.

I watched over her for the rest of the day, my head pounding with fatigue and my stomach gurgling with hunger.

She woke again as the sun was moving to set, but simply gazed out the western window-the brilliant golden light making her skin and hair glow, and her eyes seem bluer.

"I'm dying." She was lucid, and it was like a punch in the stomach. She was calm and lucid and sad.

She sat up on her elbows, turning to look at me, and I held onto my composure by a thread as her eyes welled up with tears, the small trickles of water sparkling in the light.

"If I asked you to let me join your father and brother, would you?" She asked, her voice gruff and weak, and my breath hitched in my throat as tears burned my eyes.

"Not without a fight," I responded honestly, and she laid back down, looking up at the ceiling, and sighed heavily.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? I can pull the curtains if the light is too-."

"Leave me for the night, please, daughter. Go to Silvermoon and be amongst people your age, people of life. It would bring me joy to know you found happiness, even during this," Mother was weak, but she stood defiant.

"At least let me put what you'll need within arm's reach of the bed first," I asked, and she consented.

I quickly moved a couple of bowls of porridge, and a pitcher of water to her nightstand, along with candles for light.

Then I changed out of my grubby clothes, and pulled on some clean cloth clothes-a rarity-and my duster.

It was a pretty long walk form here to Silvermoon, and I usually trained in the Golden mist court yard. In fact, I haven't been to Silvermoon since Dad died.

So, off I went.

Night life is weird. The sky was dark, and stars twinkled, but the city was lit up as adults moved from one party to another, laughter and alcohol filling the air with its heady musk. I felt out of place amongst them, with their slutty dresses and open shirts, but I kept my duster on, concealing the ranger's blade sheathed at my hip. I let my hair fall loose in public for once, and I noted the eyes it caught as I wandered.

"Why hello there, stranger."

I realised that the voice was talking to me, and I looked up to see a tall man with raven hair smirking at me. He wasn't unattractive, but he didn't really do much for me.

"Evening," I nodded, hair falling into my face a bit, and he reached out to push it aside, but I flinched, moving it myself. I was uncomfortable.

He picked up on the vibe, and with a look of scrutiny he left. I sighed and released my held breath as he left, and continued on.

I found myself near the Bazaar, which held a quaint kind of pain for me-the only place I ever saw Dad for what he was, while still loving him for it.

I looked around, and smiled softly at the sight of the old ledge that a smaller elf had once been rescued from by a dashing ranger general, and I found myself clearing the climb with ease, and I perched up there in a nostalgic silence, missing what had been.

"Are you alright, Miss?"

I looked down and flinched hard, seeing a sunny road with Talanas grinning through runny eyes, but I realised-

This was a woman. A gorgeous woman, who looked an awful lot like the old Windrunner-one of the sisters, then?

"I, um. Yeah, I'm okay," I said, wiping at my face and grimacing to find that my nostalgic thoughts had yielded tears.

"Do you need any help down from there?" The woman was small, with a ranger's build, and by the sunwell I think it's Sylvanas.

I stood and jumped, landing and rolling with it into a crouch, before standing and brushing dust off of my duster, "No thank you, I've got it." I smiled sadly into Sylvanas' face, the woman looked so much like her father but at the same time so damn gorgeous it was painful.

"Hey, you're one of my rangers. The woman I sent home with that sick elf yesterday." Sylvanas said, and I nodded, giving a mock bow.

"Teir Tortheldrin, my lady. The sick elf is my Mother. She is calmer now," I said, and I saw the pity in her eyes and resented it inwardly.

"What are you doing climbing about the city? I've never seen you go farther north than the river." Sylvanas quipped, and I shrugged, feeling lost again.

"My mother was lucid for the first time in months, and it made me realise how much I missed her. She told me to come be among people that are actually alive for a night, and well…here I am thinking on old memories." I shouldn't be telling her such a personal thing, but the look I got was one of understanding.

"My mother was an arcane addict when my sister Vereesa was born. She grew worse, and worse, and it felt like she was dying, and eventually my father had to chase her away from the spire, and bar her from seeing us, because he had caught her trying to steal the arcane magic in my blood." I never knew this story; it was…horrifying.

"Is that why you avoid using magic in combat?"

All elves, or apparently most elves, had some sort of affinity for magic-I liked to augment arrows with spells for accuracy or force.

She nodded, then gestured upward, "Follow me."

She began to climb, and I followed behind her, and we went far beyond the ledge, until-

"Oh wow," I was breathless, standing on a roof looking over the entire city. Up to the high, guarded walls of the court.

"The Thalassian Court of Nobles. It feels like a prison when you try to live there. I still remain in the family Spire, and my sister oversees affairs in the village." Sylvanas looked melancholy, and I knew the feeling well.

"I remember one of the messengers trying to coerce me to move into the city and work in the northern unit, when Alleria still led," I said, watching Sylvanas out of the corner of my eye, and I saw her wince at the mention of the elder sister, "It's the one time I actually said anything rude to someone I didn't know. They wanted me to leave my mom."

"And you won't leave her."

"Not on my soul." I said, and we smiled at each other. We weren't friends, but there was an understanding there.

Then the wind turned, and I caught the scent of foulness, and the clarity of the situation hit me. The realization must've hit my face, because Sylvanas nodded, "Go to her."

I cleared the roofs, sliding along and using the flat of my blade to glide down the wall, my duster catching air, and I felt for a moment like one of those trolls, throwing their lengthy bodies over the barriers and elf gates. I landed with a grunt, and didn't bother to sheath my blade as I raced down the road, only pausing to throw myself into the trees.

It was an accusation that I was half breed, because I was abnormally short, but when you put me in the trees I moved with far more stealth than even the Amani. I slithered through the branches, twirling in and around the connected canopy, eyes peeled for the dragon hawk eggs that would sign my death sentence, should they be hurt.

I hit the river, and slipped, hugging the lower, thick branches with my thighs and hanging upside down over the water.

Well, shit.

I looked around, out of breath, for any kind of branch to grab and get me back into the canopy, when I locked eyes with…oh, fuck.

"Hi there, Mr. Troll. Nice night for a stroll, isn't it?" Stay calm, stay calm…

The tall thing came into the moonlight, aww mossy green skin, black paint and silvery tusks. His eyes held hatred and I think confusion. Elves aren't typically this friendly to them.

I waved again, hoping that I looked delightfully stupid and different enough that I wouldn't be killed, "I don't think you're supposed to be this far north, bud. Where you from?" I think he's an adolescent, his muscles aren't defined as the adults.

He cocked his head to the side, blue braids clinking together, and I carefully flipped over on the branches, dropping down into a crouch, freezing when he tensed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I spoke in careful common, the accent thick but the words somewhat clear, "I just want to get you home safe."

He straightened up at that, and I was reminded how bloody tall trolls were-an insult to my shortness, I'm sure. He moved forward a little bit, limping, and I saw an arrow in his calf.

Oh shit, he's been sighted and probably left for death.

"Okay that's a bad hit there. Can I come across and fix it?" Trolls were territorial, and that ground was stained with the inky blue troll blood.

He gestured for me to move forward, and I reached into my duster, thankful that I had herbs and pastes with me.

I swung up into the trees, careful to keep in sight of the boy as I shimmied across, and I dropped off a few feet away, taking up a crouch to prowl close.

"Alright. I have to remove the arrow, and it'll hurt. But if you shout, the ones who hurt you will come back, okay?" What I had mistaken for confusion and hatred was fear and pain, and it intensified as he nodded, taking what I think was a belt and biting it. Good boy.

I counted to three, and ripped. Thankfully, it wasn't barbed, so it slid right out, and the troll went rigid under my hands, the muscles spasming as he struggled to keep quiet, but he did it.

"There you go. Nicely done. Now I'm going to clean it. This will sting," I moved slowly, carefully mopping up the blood with some leaves, then pouring a small vial of holy water over the wound. It sizzled and he whimpered-the first sound I'd heard from him.

The vial worked, and it already looked better. "Well done. Now I have some paste I'm going to put on it, which will help stop the blood and make it heal faster. It stinks, but it'll hold until we get you home." I applied the paste, and he made an indignant stiffing sound, and I laughed softly.

He was relaxed under my hands now. He trusted me. I never thought I'd be tending to a troll by the river in my own territory. What would Mom say?

I pushed that side, and wrapped it with his belt and some leaves. Once I was certain it would hold, I backed off.

"Can you climb? It's time to go home."

He nodded, pushing to his feet carefully, and into the trees.

I let him go on his way, following carefully and causing a ruckus so that patrols would steer away, and I watched from the shadows as he climbed over the wall and left the realm with a soft pop.

I nodded, job well done, and turned to go home.

Mom would've been pissed.