(6)Revolt in Yaruk (follows the Yaruk blog, will eventully be added to it)

   Abiel sat on the edge of Gen's small bed forcing herself to remain still and composed. Her immediate desire was to smash every object in the room and scream at him loud enough to be heard across Yaruk. There wasn't much to destroy, Gen had few possessions, but the bed and chest of drawers might take more than a single go and that at least would be some relief. The sand elf sat with his elbows on his knees, hunched over looking very small and broken. This was not the man she met a year ago on that road to what was almost her new life. The slightest taste of freedom had come and was slipping with every passing moment through her fingers. Abiel blamed Gen for this, for not holding to his word, for not being the man she thought him to be. Another war was a mere day away and Abiel was determined to do what she could to stop it before it started. Gen raised his head half way, trying to meet her gaze. What ever she had seen, what ever strength or handsomeness she had seen, was long gone, if it had ever been there. 'Gen was much like Shiftie'. Abiel recalled thinking that on the road. She could not recall the last time she'd been so wrong about something.                     
     "Have you ever thought to ask yourself 'why' you and Ali Kahn are plotting like rats against the king and this city? What has been done to your people in the last five hundred years that causes so much hatred that you will bring this violence upon them? Yaruk prospers and thrives ever more as time goes, I have seen it with my own eyes. The Yallarians, your people, are happy. The only ones who refuse to see that are you and Ali Kahn along with the sheep you've managed to sway. And with what? The promise of land? Wealth? The opportunities for these things are already here! How much wealth and prestige and honor has Ali Kahn assumed in his own life time? Why isn't that enough?!" Abiel snapped.
   Gen's chin lowered to his chest, but his eyes remained fixed on her face.
     "What have I done to make you think I would help you with this? Who do you think I am? Some child who would lose their heart to a smile and a shared bed? You're very good, but you aren't that good, sir. This was not your idea, of that I am sure. Ali Kahn knows nothing of me except that he wants to use me. It helps your cause naught that your master thinks it wise to torture me with magics, to test me, knowing that if I was to murder him, his plans would remain and I would be hunted and no one would realize until it was too late..." 
   Gen's head snapped up, his torso following. He sat straight in his chair now, shocked by this news.
      "Do not fear, weakling, I know you knew nothing of this, Ali Kahn did not think you would approve, and how could you? What sort of monster welcomes his dearest love into his bed so sweetly, knowing his master has been using the darkest foulest magics at his disposal for sport and to test my strength and ability to heal? You know my strength. You placed me with Ali Kahn to keep your oath to me and to serve your master's ends all at once. All in hopes of betraying the king right beneath his own nose, under Assad's. Would that you could make sense of this treason, Gen, for this betrayal you visit upon me. Has Ali Kahn been whispering in your ear so long that you know not the truth when it sits before you? Who are you? You are not the slave master upon the road. You are not the warrior I saved, nor the honorable man that brought me here, knowing you had made an honorable man's deal. "
    Gen opened his mouth to speak, one look from Abiel and he closed his mouth tightly.
      "You will not be speaking tonight. You have never been one for talk, so I will put forth the rules and my intentions. After that, you will make your choices and be gone from my life in one fashion or another."    Abiel looked upon Gen, this man who'd said he loved her and had tried in all of the wrong ways to make her love him. Abiel did not love the man before her. It was Yaruk that she loved, it was the Yarukahn she was fighting for, and for the life she had begun building here.    
   Abiel leaned forward toward Gen, her elbows resting upon her knees. He raised his eyes to meet hers. Fear and guilt swirled within his gaze. She fixed hardened eyes upon his. The elf could not look away as Abiel's rage began to creep from her, moving to him, wrapping itself around him like a cloak and squeezing. She felt her presence pulsating, pounding in her chest to be released in its' ferocity, but Abiel had control of her presence now, harnessed and leashed, using it as she required to drive her commands squarely into Gen's soul.             
     "You will leave Yaruk. You will leave tonight, I do not care how you go about it.  See to it that this is not an oath you break to me. Whisper a word of this and I will tear this city down stone by stone and set it afire then rebuild it with my bare hands after I kill every last man, woman and child with Yallarian blood, starting with Ali Kahn, and no matter where you would think to run, you might die last Gen, but you most certainly will die worst, I swear it as the final oath I make to you." Abiel smiled a smile so unnaturally evil that Gen balked. It was a smile that had never shown on her face in the waking hours until this moment.        
     "Do you understand?" Abiel moved so quickly, Gen had no time to so much as flinch and had him by his tanned throat.             
     "Yes..." he managed to choke the word, wanting to say much more. Abiel squeezed harder.                   
     "By dawn."                                                                   
                                                               

                                                               CHAPTER      

   Yaruk was such a beautiful city. Abiel stood atop of the many blue-tiled roofs of Yaruk, she was half-way back to Ali Kahn's compound and could not help but to take it all in, even in the dark. Music and laughter filtered softly over the op of the crashing seas beyond the city walls. It was so serene, so comforting, but that comfort only served to fan the flames of Abiel's anger now. She had lived this moment time and again, never to such a degree though. It was any other night before war would come and tear her home apart. Yes, she had lived this night before. In the life of her dreams and in this, her flesh and blood life that once again would not remain still in happiness. She was ever more determined now to stop it before it started if she could. How, was the problem looming before her.
   Killing Ali Kahn would serve an immediate purpose, as well as satiating her own desire for his death, but it would garner her no favors and no one would know of his duplicity. Abiel moved on, closer to her open-doored prison, running and leaping her way as quiet as a shadow. She stopped, thinking she may have been spotted by a large group of people out in their courtyard having a small celebration. At least a dozen or so men and women were standing around an enormous brazier, throwing in flowers and herbs into the fire, singing and dancing while a man sat on the ground with his legs crossed, surrounded by small tablas of different sizes, beside him were men strumming uhds, and behind them a man plucked at the strings of a large kanoon. Abiel knelt beside the large stone dahknir, using it for cover as a woman began to sing.  The singer was a Yallarian, most of them probably were. Abiel listened closely now, wondering if she was witnessing part of Ali Kahn's conspirators celebrate the coming revolution.        

                                     "I sing of a time where no trees grow, where no castles stood, 

                                          only the sand below,             

                                    When the world was formed with woman and child, no evil came here, 

                                        when life was wild.             

                                    I sing of a home beneath the shade trees, where blood was spilled, 

                                       we lived on our knees.          

                                   I sing of a time where all things change, where enemy becomes neighbor, 

                                       with marriage to arrange.              

                                  I sing of a place where gardens grow, in Yarukian kingdoms,

                                      t'is Evil we do not know..."    

   

   Abiel had heard this song sung in Ali Kahn's halls many times before. This was no song for conspirators, of citizens uniting against their king. This was a song of hope and happiness. This would be the song that played in Abiel's heart as she killed Ali Kahn and any other man or woman that would draw swords against the people. The woman had a beautiful voice, and it became accompanied by the men, and Abiel guessed the children in the house who were supposed to be sleeping, as their small voices filtered upward from the building. No harm could come to them. Not tomorrow, not ever. Not as long as she drew breath, Abiel vowed quietly to herself. Gen may not have been able to keep the promise of an honorable man, but she would.
   Knowing now that she had not been spotted, Abiel carefully kept to the shadows and continued on to Ali Kahn's manse. She leaped from the roof to the leaning palm as she had so many times before, then onto the blue-tiled roof above the terrace, then lowered herself down to the edge before turning and grabbing the edge of the last tiles and dropping silently onto the stone landing. She turned to look out over the city and the grounds so far below. In her mind, she could still hear the Yallarians singing their ode to Yaruk and Abiel smiled as hot tears began to make their way down her cheeks. She let them remain for a moment before wiping at them with the edge of her sleeve and turned to go inside.
   Abiel looked up and jumped back, startled. Assad was waiting, seething beside the enormous mantle. A fire burned heartily, filling the room with an uncomfortable warmth. No other lanterns were lit, the flames casting menacing shadows over Assad. Abiel was unclear of what to say. She locked her fingers together and let her arms hang like a manacled prisoner awaiting Assad's judgment. 
     "I have spent the better part of the last hour speaking to myself so that the guards would not suspect. Or are they aware that you come and go like an alley cat at will?" Assad sneered. There was an accusatory insult within his words that Abiel did not like.   
     "They do not know. Or at least I assume they do not." She replied quietly, staring at the fire. "With Ali Kahn, it is hard to know what his motives could be and what instructions he might have for his men." Assad's face shifted to suspicion of Abiel's subtle accusations. 
     "I thought I could come to you about what I have discovered about your dearest friend, but I am beginning to wonder if I have any good judgment left in me where people  I care for are concerned." Abiel purposefully stabbed at his honor and pride. 
     "Then for a moment, pretend I am the man you thought I was. Perhaps your lies will prove true enough to save you from death." Abiel smiled the smallest smile, a remnant of the last smile she would ever show to Gen. 
     "Death? I have not one thing to fear from it, as it does not wish to take me. I think somehow you know that to be true enough, even if it frightens you to consider it." Another swipe. "How long has your family been tied to the Khan's?"
   Assad raised an eyebrow. "Ages." he replied. 
     "Since the rule of the Shaffi bloodline began." Abiel spoke to him as if educating him on his family history. She wondered how much to tell him, wondered if he would believe if he heard everything.
     "...And since the Shaffi took power, they have held this city, expanded it, nurtured its' progression and created a haven, a place anyone would be proud to call their home..." Abiel cleared her throat, hearing Assad's voice using these same words to tell her of the history of his people. Now was not the time to become emotional, it would garner her no faith from the half-elf.
   The Yarakai had noted the emotion within her words, but said nothing, waiting. What ever lies the Lore-woman had to tell, he would hear them all and let her hang herself.
     "Since the day Amar Shaffi took this city, changes came. At first, the Yallarian's and Tana'ahn's were punished, humiliated openly. But Amar Shaffi saw the error in this, saw the potential for yet more civil fighting and learned his lesson. Never again would a Yarkai draw blood from those they saw as their neighbors and allies. That is what you told me. The portent of this was not lost on his sons, or theirs, or those of any other ruling Shaffi since. They saw the value of holding an open city, if for naught else but to retain their power. The Tana'ahn's remained humble and moved forward into this new thinking without pause. The Yallarian's however, at least some, however humble in appearance they seemed, for all their platitudes and graciousness, have not been so forgiving in their private thoughts and actions. All these years, a handful of families has done nothing but plot to take the throne and power back for themselves, to rid the world of the Shaffi bloodline and every Yarakai living." Abiel saw Assad's jaw grow rigid, his eyes narrowed.
     "Your father's dearest friend, the man you call your second father, has been a part of these schemes since he could speak. And now he is the leader of I don't know how many Yallarian's and hired-swords to take back this city and the throne."
   Assad cursed loudly, loudly enough to cause the guards to open the viewing window in the door. Assad waived the guard off with his hand and the window closed.
     "It won't be long now until one of the rats in the walls goes scurrying off to his master and tell Ali Kahn what I am telling you. Because of this, I will skip to the end of my sad story and let you make your choice. I was given into the care of this house because of what I am. I came to Yaruk by choice, I took this work by choice. It was the trader they call Gen who'd taken me from the Lorelands. I allowed it to happen, as I have told you."   Assad was still visibly skeptical.
     "I made myself useful. Gen witnessed several of my strengths. He owed me his life and in trade of that debt, he swore that he would sell me to a household that would leave me in peace to do my work and remain hidden. Gen chose Ali Kahn. Not because Ali Kahn is a benevolent, kind, old man, but because he thought Ali Kahn could use me to win his war. He did not believe it until the night I met you." Abiel could not bring herself to saying "The night I attacked you... The night I almost murdered you in a fitful rage not my own..." 
   But those remained the words in her mind, the truth of it and Assad knew that to be true.
     "He has me tortured when he knows you are not coming to sit with me." Abiel was not sure how Assad would react if she admitted that Ali Kahn knew perfectly well that she left regularly to see Gen. "He tried to convince me that his cause is noble and righteous, that no one would listen to me if I spoke of this because so few, including you, know the true extent of his abilities, or those of the people in his employ. Ali Kahn frequently wanted to test my endurance, my pain tolerance, my ability to heal. Every morning when I rise, he is ever more pleased and satisfied with himself that Gen has brought him a worthy gift to finally see to the end of the Shaffi rule. Ali Kahn also mistakenly believes that through my friendship with Gen, I can be controlled." Abiel laughed lightly.
   Assad almost asked why Gen would have any hold over her, but fear of the truth kept his mouth closed.   
     "Tonight, I went to see Gen one last time, to inform him that my services will not be available to him or to Ali Kahn and their treason."
   Assad's mouth hung open as he tried to understand why the girl would lie to him so outlandishly.
     "I will tell you just as I told him- I will kill any one that raises a weapon against the king or to the people of this city. I will not be a weapon for their treachery and if I have to tear this city down to keep them from it, I will do it. And that you should be prepared for." Abiel unclasped her hands and took several steps to close the space between herself and Assad so that he could look her in the eye as she spoke. 
     "I will do what ever I must to keep the citizens of Yaruk alive and foremost to protect the king and his family. Anyone who so much as glances at them with harm in their eyes will die and I will not ask  forgiveness for it. I am telling you this because I love you more than my own life, though you are cruel and unkind to me on your best days. But I know that you saw something within me that night I almost..." the admission would not come out and so she pressed on.
     "I do not say these words because I am trying to sway you. I do not pretend to know or understand you. You keep yourself terribly guarded from me. Saying this aloud makes me question how I can love you or know that I do, but that is the truth of it. If you choose not to believe any of what I have told you, you will find yourself in a fool's seat and I know too well your disdain of humiliation. I tell you now to at least have the sense not to oppose me, to get as many people out of this city and keep them safe while I do what I must to preserve the sanctity of it. If by chance you should choose to stand in my path, I will kill you dead. When all is said and done, I would sing a lament for you every day in my heart for as long as I live."
   Assad did not appreciate the threat or the insinuation that she would kill him. It stung like a kick to the chest that she knew she could defeat him, that it was the truth in every regard. Keeping silent was becoming difficult for him. A nasty retort came to mind and he was prepared to call the guards in and have her bound, but something caught his attention. He looked to the hearth, where the colors of the flames were changing unnaturally.
       "The nekromahnari are coming." Abiel took Assad's hand and pulled him away from the fire toward the terrace. Assad could not take his eyes from the green and purple fire, eyes wide. "There is no time now. They will not hesitate to kill you."
   Assad ripped his hand from hers and stepped back into the room.
     "I can kill you now to ease your passing," Abiel offered as Assad witnessed the growing flames  reaching out from stone hearth, turning to smoke and then to decaying hands.
     Assad swore under his breath but remained frozen.
     "Assad!" Abiel yelled, reaching for his hand. The half-elf couldn't register what he was seeing. The nekromahnari were a children's myth... He felt Abiel grab his wrist tightly. Abiel heard the viewing window on the door open, the bolt on the door being released.
     "Guards! To the King!" Assad shouted. The words had barely let his mouth when Abiel pulled him painfully out onto the terrace and throw him like a doll to the tiled roof above. He scrambled to keep himself from slipping as Abiel pulled herself up easily, just as the guards rushed into the room to find the nekromahnari
taking full form before the hearth.
   Abiel yanked Assad to his feet. Assad could hear the shouting and then immediate silencing of the guards as the masters of the death arts took their lives.
     "Hurry!" Abiel tried to whisper as loud as she could, pulling him to her and then pushing him across the roof. "Run!"

(4)Raxus confronts Abiel about Toatle

   Abiel and Raxus lounged on benches separated by a dark ale-stained wooden table, each leaning against the stone interior wall casually taking in the comings and goings of patrons at the Nine Lantern. It was a cozy space lit by the glow of thick over-poured candles and a roaring fire in an enormous hearth. Abiel was content in the moment with an easy smiling for those who caught her gaze, while Raxus' attention skipped from barmaid to guests without shame or concern, the occasional wink or promise of a smile when he felt warranted. Abiel took up her cup of ale with both hands drinking large gulps absently. It was sweet and made her feet tingle, a promising start guaranteeing an achy head in the morning. The dread knight barely suppressed a grin, the corners of his dark lips twitching to ward off the smile for the ever-maturing girl whom he'd come to think of as one of his truest friends. He ran his fingers through his white hair and let out a sigh of conviction. It was long past time for this discussion, and he was determined now to have it.
     "So. You and Shiftie. What am I to make of this?" he asked casually. The smirk he had though was not for Abiel. He'd caught the eye of a silver-haired half elf in dark red robes by the hearth.
     "Think of what?" Abiel turned on the bench setting her feet on the floor. This seemed important.
     "Nothing has come of it?" Raxus lifted his tankard, still staring at the half-elf.
     "Come of what?" Abiel asked. 

Raxus turned to face her, a suggestive expression across his handsome face.
     "Are you drunk?" she laughed.
     "Hmmm," Raxus pursed his lips, thinking over her reaction and how best to proceed.
   His exhaled 'hmmm' was like a spark igniting a field of dry brush in Abiel's mind. The apple flavored ale taking hold was not helping. The clarity of sobriety was being blunted and blurred but the visions in her mind...the feel of Shiftie's skin under her fingertips... Abiel sat frozen, consumed. Like a seed within perfect soil, this idea, if she could even call it that, had been so easily planted and now it was growing roots.
     "I am with Toatle," Abiel insisted after finally managing to shut the door on the absurd thoughts.
   Raxus watched Abiel squirm in her seat with amusement, attempting to understand all that he had been suggesting. Abiel stared hard into her ale. His eyes narrowed some, the corners of his mouth twitching to conceal his smile.
     "Shiftie or no, something must be done about that and immediately, my girl." Raxus began brushed off a non-existent something from his leather vest. "Undeserving arsehole." he grumbled.
   Abiel laughed heartily thankful for the change of topic. "You are an excellent character judge of dark elven arseholes, sir."
   Raxus threw a chunk of bread at Abiel playfully. She was far too busy laughing at her own joke to bother trying to catch it and laughed all the harder for it. Once she had contained herself, Abiel was compelled explain about Toatle further. And change the subject.
     "I know... I've known from the start that he and I were...doomed." she said softly, sadly.
     "How does this keep happening to him?" a deep-rooted mockery and disgust in his tone.
     Abiel shrugged, but the answer to the mystery that had built the relationship between Toatle and herself was no secret to her.
     "You are by no means a flower and I love you?"
     "The only sensible thing you've felt since I've known you, but that cunt and I are hardly comparable. I am a much better fighter, I am far better looking, far more interesting but more importantly I am not a complete self-important twat..." Raxus took another drink. He smiled because he was certain he was right. She raised an eyebrow. He most certainly was as self-important as anyone. Raxus waived her off with a rude hand gesture.
     "Four years surrounded by arses and twats, who at many points within those years proved to be more than arses even if they remained twats." Abiel smiled a small smile. In the dim light, the portion of the scar under Abiel's lower lip was accentuated.
     "You assume good within others too easily, youngling. You don't look to be certain." Raxus was inspecting her now. For all of her growth and maturity, the air of goodness that emanated from her was always striking to him. Nothing she had suffered had broken break her spirit and for all that he appreciated about it, her light was the root for problems more frequently.
     "I don't 'find' it," Abiel laughed. "It can't be helped if the lot of you are a bunch of lap dogs. No amount of armor and weapons could hide that from me."
     "Laps dogs, eh?" Raxus smiled and threw another piece of bread at Abiel, who caught it this time and began to eat it. "I have been very fortunate with my friends. I know I shouldn't be with Toatle..."
      'Now that's interesting,' Raxus thought to himself. He could see clearly now that the change of heart had already set in for her.
     "Because you should be with Shiftie." Raxus shrugged.
     She coughed trying not to choke on the bite of bread. "No! Not because of him! Karr strike you." Abiel growled.
     "Just tell the twot to pack up his gear and sod off." Raxus stated simply.
     "It's all very complicated." Abiel bit her lip at the daunting prospect of having to end things.
     "It all really isn't." Raxus retorted and finished off his tankard of ale.
     "Isn't it? He isn't some stranger. We need him." Abiel absently waived for another round of drinks.
     "Dearest girl," Raxus sat forward leaning on the table looking at her with a tempered seriousness and took her scarred hands into his. "No one wishes unhappiness for you, even if it means breaking the hearts of all of us if it's for your own good. We have known Toatle much longer than you. You aren't the first woman he thinks he loves in a long long long looooong line of disasters he creates himself for that 'love', just as the end to your courtship would not be the first time he's abandoned all of us over some perceived slight, which you witnessed firsthand and more than once."
   Abiel let her mind wander through those memories and to the terrible things she'd done since, the dreams of a life so different from her own, but somehow entirely connected, filled with even worse atrocities and love...
   Raxus squeezed her hands to pull her back to the moment. "Let's just hope for all of our sakes that this will be the catalyst for him choosing never to return."
     "Raxus!" Abiel snapped, but she was not as angry as she sounded. A bar maid set two fresh tankards of ale on the table. She did not hear Abiel's thanks as she made no attempt to hide her interest in the dread knight. The maid lingered at the table an extra moment, then returned to the bar swinging her hips purposefully as Raxus watched her go. Abiel smiled and shook her head.
     "This isn't how I wanted things. I never meant for this. I promised Shiftie it would never interfere. With all that looms on the horizon, we need Toatle."
     "Shiftie doesn't want you with Toatle for many reasons, my dearest youngling." Raxus took a long drink of his fresh ale, watching the bar maid from over the top of his cup allowing the embers to burn in Abiel's mind.
    Abiel was floored by this not-so-subtle suggestion as the roots grew stronger and deeper, the feel of Shiftie's perfect lips upon hers, the silken perfection that made up his wonderful hair, the taste of his skin... If Abiel could have slapped herself, she would have.
     "Shiftie said to me just yesterday that he couldn't understand how I could ever conceive of being with Toatle. Half a year goes by and now he thinks to say something?" Abiel hunched over the table staring at the grains of wood.
     "He may have mentioned something in the same vein to me the other day," Raxus sipped from his ale and winked at the bar maid.
     "You spoke to him of this?!" Abiel choked. 

Raxus waived off the question.
     "Would it have mattered half a year ago?" Raxus asked, attention back to Abiel for the moment.
     "I suppose not.... Maybe? What am I even saying? Of course. I would have listened to Shiftie but it doesn't matter now. For someone who doesn't care who I spend my personal time with, he was very put off when he found out.  And I don't mean to imply that he was jealous..." Abiel inhaled deeply, searching for the words. "He was extremely irritated that we had not told him sooner? Later, he said it mattered not. And then yesterday... He was angry. He was afraid... for me, for my safety with Toatle, that Toatle might actually harm me..." Abiel's tone changed as she attempted to make sense of the confusion. Raxus began to feel her presence upon him ever so slightly. "Toatle may very well be the worst idea I have ever conceived as a mate went, but harm me? Not ever. At least not physically."
     "Well what did you expect his response to be? You're his second and even more than that."
     "We didn't tell anyone on purpose. We didn't want it to interfere..." Her voice trailed off. Abiel held tightly to her mug, still staring at the table, wondering how Shiftie had reacted to the dread knight's opinions on all of this, mostly his responses about being with her.
     "And now it is interfering?"
     "With everything! My training, raids, I cannot sleep and sometimes..." Abiel stopped herself, took a breath and changed her mind about something Raxus was unclear about. "...And now I am unhappy. Shiftie is miserable. The more time I spend with Shiftie, the more irritable Toatle becomes. Insinuating... the worst things... The same things you have, but in the cruelest most disrespectful ways! Like a competition of sorts for Toatle. In his mind, everything Shiftie does, every victory or something as petty as a new piece of armor, Toatle feels Shiftie mocks him and purposefully shows off to torture him. He'll have taught me something, something important for a skirmish, I'll share it with Toatle..." she caught herself rambling and exhaled to calm herself again. "Shiftie may be many things, but I know nothing he does has anything to do with Toatle. Gods forbid I say anything to defend Shiftie and why shouldn't I? He is my captain; I am under his care and protection and fealty belongs to him over all others, as it is for everyone." Abiel's voice trailed off as her mind flooded with the clarity facing her with Toatle, most things she knew she could never say to his face.
   Raxus could see the problems Toatle must be having, even if Toatle's reaction was out of proportion under the circumstance. Abiel was not some milkmaid, Toatle and Shiftie were not farmhands fighting to court her or to win her affections. Knowing Toatle as he did, Raxus knew that he would never see reality for what it was. Not ever.
     "Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Be done with him. Save yourself and the rest of us the grief. Get rid of him and soon." Raxus looked to the barmaid and winked.
     "He's not an old shirt, sir, to be tossed aside and treated as such. He deserves better than that." Abiel implored.
     "Could have fooled me." the dark elf smiled.



   In the end, it had gone almost too easily, too quickly. Not only had she expected there to be a few days between her speaking with Raxus and the inevitable end of the courtship with Toatle, but that it came to a head within a few minutes after she'd left Raxus at the Nine Lanterns.  Abiel had expected it to be a days-long fight as they'd been having recently, but it had been so vicious and brief, she barely recalled much of anything. Abiel took a seat at the edge of her small bed, trying to recount what had happened, all that had been said...
   A messenger had been posted at her door with strict instructions that no one was to see the message but Abiel upon her return. Toatle was already in her room waiting, irritated at the messenger's refusal to leave the parchment with him. He had assumed correctly that it was from Shiftie. Abiel was to meet him two hours before dawn. A Gurvir patrol had been spotted camped within an old dwarven outpost two days ride from the Darl Krag entrance of the mountains and a small raid was being formed to clear it. Toatle's presence for this particular raid had not been requested, infuriating him further and setting off the tirade. Before she knew it, Toatle  had suggested that they should no longer be together. It wasn't the first time he'd weaponized their feelings, but the first time Abiel didn't fight it but used it in turn. It wasn't long after that when Toatle had denied saying it. She remembered clearly enough- it was he that made it to seem as though she had initiated the end of their courtship and now she "could go be happy with her high elven warlord, where she really wanted to be."
   Abiel felt no truth in it, but the ease of using his threats was too good to pass. And then he was gone. The shock that it was over and done with, that they were over and done with? She was free now, even if she didn't fully know what that meant. Not to pursue anyone, but free of this bizarre coupling that had caused so much unrest in what was already a fragile and tumultuous life in such a short amount of time. Abiel had little recollection now of the happy moments, she could not recall the reasons she'd thought she'd loved Toatle. If she had been in love, she was not any longer. At least not with the elf who'd just left.
   Abiel began collecting her gear feeling light and excited. Her only concern now was whether or not she should speak to Shiftie about their mutual conversations with Raxus. She'd made up her mind that they should speak of it to clear the air, for she was sure that Shiftie would not want her. He had never shown any inclination or consideration, nor did she have any expectations. If anything, Abiel told herself and knew to her core that things were supposed to be this way. She loved Shiftie, she was loyal to him and those boundaries need never be challenged.
     'Like a dog,' Abiel thought back to the first time Toatle had ever called her that. They were in the Vale. What Toatle never understood was that to Abiel, it held no amount of shame. 

     Whatever mystery she held, whatever her purpose in the world, she was Shiftie's trained dog and proud of it. It suited her to be whatever the high elf needed her to be. She recalled the day so many years ago when she was a child, the day he'd come to fetch her from her studies and take her into Coste Volte. He'd picked her up and carried her so high and Abiel had never forgotten how proud she was that she knew him in the moment. Through everything that had happened since, that pride had only increased. She wore it like a brooch for all to see and cared not about others' opinions. If she knew nothing else, Abiel knew that to be at Shiftie's side was her future. Not as a wife or lover, those seemed petty and useless things compared to being... 'his dog.' Abiel was truly pleased with this and every step closer she came to meeting with Shiftie before the raid, the more positive she was that he should know this and that she and Toatle were no more, and Abiel would be sure to put to rest any fears that he might have regarding feelings for him that she did not carry in an inappropriate way for him.


   Abiel entered the large stables where members of the Dragon Sect were preparing to leave. She smiled at Shiftie brightly, exchanging greetings with others as she made her way to him. 'Now is not the time.' Abiel thought to herself, still smiling. Abiel bowed to Shiftie in greeting as she always did, he smiled his hello and seemed oddly relaxed under the circumstances.
     "Are you ready?" he asked slightly more serious.
     "Yes?" It was more of a question that she would have put to Shiftie, whether or not he felt she was ready to go out to raid again. She was ready to do as he instructed, to do her best at what ever task she was given.
Abiel stepped closer to him, her cheeks growing more rose-colored. She could barely look at his chin, let alone look him in the eye.
     "When you have time, perhaps we could discuss a few matters?" Abiel whispered. "Not now of course, but when you see fit. It's nothing serious, I assure you. Just a few... things." Abiel stammered. Abiel set eyes upon Shiftie and all the wind within her was pulled out. She had yet to give him any specifics and found herself embarrassed at the thought that she would discuss things that suddenly seemed absurd. Shiftie was a decorated centurion. He was above these things and rightfully so. Abiel was free of Toatle, free to concentrate on her training and gaining full control of herself. That was all that was important to him and as such, was all that would be important to her. Abiel would not bring the matter up again, and Gods willing, Shiftie would be far too busy to remember that she'd said anything. She would put it out of her mind and so would he. Again, a new sense of relief came over her. She was ready to focus on the pending raid, ready for her master to unhook the lead.


                                                               CHAPTER
  

   Three days of riding and tracking, Shiftie pushed her mercilessly. Abiel was sent to track, sent to forage, fetch the water, stand post. She gloried in every task, volunteered for every duty she could. Though she had decided not to mention it aloud, she hadn't needed sleep. And in the few minutes she'd had alone in the forest checking for tracks or signs, speaking with animals when she had enough privacy to do so, Abiel had thought back to the times when sleep had overtaken her. This was something far more important that she would speak with Shiftie about, although she considered how best to mention it so that it wouldn't come out as insulting... "It appears sir, that I don't require as much sleep as you. Ever. Unless I've died." Abiel clapped a hand over her mouth to keep in the laughter, chiding herself as she went. A fine thing to be amused at, when bands of murderous scoundrels were about looking to kill her and anyone else they might come across.
   Abiel made her way back to the camp. It wasn't difficult to locate. For the first time since they'd left the mountains, there was a giant fire. Granted, there were over one hundred men and women at arms, there were almost a dozen clerics, one... two... three... four... five wizards? Four shaman that she could name... Something was very strange indeed, so much of this raid that was very unusual. In the fire light, just across the camp, she saw the small white tuft of hair that sat atop Shiftie's head and it stopped her in her tracks and she could not help but smile. No, the world could turn upside down and inside out and if she saw him, it would matter not. Shiftie turned and caught her gaze then and waived her to him and she could not deny that she loved him. It was in that moment Abiel knew that she could love him and go to her death never having told  Shiftie.
     "Tell me, what did you find?" he smiled.
     "Poorly concealed tracks, my lord. At least a dozen orc, maybe a dozen goblin, some blood elves. They might even have a giant troll or two and they travel on foot." While tracks had been poorly concealed, it was actually the information of several animal families living in the area. They'd bolted when the Gurvir had moved through and returned once they were gone, but all of the animals were on alert.
     "They're a few days ahead, three at the least, four at the most, they're skirting around toward the Pale Rock post."
     "How would you know this?" Shiftie's white eyebrow raised.
     "They keep moving from camp to camp like this..." Abiel knelt down drew wide slightly intersecting arches away from her in the soft dirt. "Aren't they?" She looked up, hoping to be correct.
     "That they seem to be, yes," he waited for her to continue.
     "If they continue that way, the only place they would come across is the post. They keep moving forward and back to keep the patrols off guard. I wouldn't be surprised if they have rogues watching us right now." Abiel stood and whispered the last part.
     "Nor would I." Shiftie smiled easily and patted her on the head. Abiel smiled, the proud dog that she was. 


   There was chaos surrounding her, Abiel could not clear her mind. Stamping horse hooves, the feet of men and orc and goblin, animals.... Abiel struggled to wake, a heavy mist of fog swirled above her head, she could not make out those above her, only the brilliant clashing of magics and steel, blood and flesh falling over her like a heavy rain. Filthy hands reached down toward then disappeared back into the mist, more hands, paws, blood and boney claws... horrified, she sat where she was, the hands were upon her now and she had no will to fight. The scaled claws, so black and shimmering, so lovely and lethal- they would kill her and put this entire battle an end. Abiel closed her eyes and waited...
     "Wake up, my youngling, it's time to move on." A familiar voice cut through the clouds of her dreams. Abiel struggled to old on, to stay within the coming death, but that voice held a smile within it, a smile she was now willing to fight to see. Abiel opened her eyes. Shiftie was managing poorly to conceal the smile he had for her. "Arise, my sleeping girl, another day of the hunt awaits. Perhaps today will be the day that we find our prey?" 
   The drained feeling she'd experienced in her dream was not with her now in the early dawn light. That perfect smile snapped Abiel into the world with an energy she lived for. Within moments, she had washed her face and had the horses saddled and packed.
     "Quite the handy little squirrel you have their, son! Wherever did you find her?" a very large barbarian warrior remarked to Shiftie out of Abiel's hearing.  
   Shiftie smiled and watched Abiel go about her business, taking his time as he dressed and ate, seen to at lightning intervals by the 'squirrel'. He watched her, wondered what he could have done to set the path they were on together. In his estimation, he had not done one right thing for this girl in her life, yet here she was, only perhaps two hours of sleep, racing to see to his every need or conceived want as though she owed him every breath and drop of blood within her. 
     Things could not remain as they were. She could not stay like this, not being as she was, 'Whatever that might be,' Shiftie exhaled. The world would come to doom because she could not look away from him long enough to know better. Pouty had said as much and now the harsh truth of it was dawning on the warlord.  But on the same token, it felt right within his heart. The high-elf considered if perhaps they were not meant to be parted. Perhaps he was meant to be the compass and give her the direction. Abiel was nowhere near ready to be in the lowliest of guilds, let alone the Paladin, the one who could stand before the world and save or crush it.  The fault of that, at least in part, rested on his shoulders.
   When they'd first met and she'd stated that she was iron and steel- he'd believed it more then than he did now. Her ceaseless youthful naive desire to learn and help, traits Shiftie continued to adore most, traits that were was not to be prized as fighters, especially given the steps back into her training she'd taken. 

     A chill ran up Shiftie's spine, a sick feeling swelled in his stomach thinking about Drandelt and Kohlven. It had been partly their own fault. Everyone had been warned to stay far from her and she was returned to her senses moments after, far too late to save the careless knights, but long enough to save everyone else. So close to death they had come before her change, the tendrils of smoke that rippled from her eyes burned in Shiftie's mind so vividly. It was the first time he'd witnessed her so changed- vicious, skilled, strong... too strong. Wielding two long swords as though they were light as feathers with a veteran fighter's knowledge he'd never believe Abiel capable of amassing. She was a demon of chaos and death pulsing with power. The kind of power that could win wars and set the world on fire. There it was, staring them in the face. Call her the Paladin or any name they could think of. In the end, one question stood out over all others: how could he ever control her in the direst of circumstances if Abiel could not learn to control herself? And, he asked himself, Do I even want to?


                                                                 CHAPTER 

   Another full day of riding in small groups, always a mix of warriors, a cleric, a shaman or druid as the numbers allowed, and the raiding party fell upon the band of sixty or so Gurvir that had been making their way in precise movements toward the base of the mountain range. None were spared, the question remained how such a large group of Gurvir had come to go undetected given all the guilds and Sect members that were out in force, scouring the Seven Kingdoms and beyond. 
   There was no explanation as to how the Gurvir were getting so far into the kingdoms without detection. Those Gurvir who'd been taken captive had yet to slip and divulge any explanation or plans. Most died for their silence in the end. For Shiftie, it had been largely successful. His new gear had stood up against the orc especially well. He'd been eying it for some time, little Abiel, who'd done almost exceptionally well this raid, had done precisely what she had been instructed to, engaging when told, staying back when ordered. She'd felled three blood elven rogues that were about to attack the clerics. He'd thought he'd spied the swirls of mist forming at her eyes not once but twice, but she'd contained herself. It was hard to know for sure at the time, Shiftie had been engaging the two battle trolls and trying to save his own skin.  
   The high elf was as pleased as he would allow himself to be. It was when they were nearly to the stone bridge when Shiftie came to realize that Abiel was walking behind him. He'd been so lost in thought, even speaking his thoughts aloud, so used to her listening intently and somehow knowing the appropriate times to respond to his spoken thought, the high elf assumed the last half of the day that she was beside him. They were walking their horses now, the sound of their hooves echoing through the valley as they clipped and clopped on the smooth pavement. Shiftie stopped when he realized she wasn't beside him, causing Abiel, who was lot in her own thoughts, to nearly walk into him. The girl began to apologize profusely.
     "Are you allright?" Shiftie asked, watching her, puzzled.
     "I am fine, my lord. Are you?" Abiel replied, slightly flustered.
     "I am quite well and have been for some time. Where is your mind, youngling? I have been talking to you for the last hour." The warlord almost smiled. "How long have you been trailing behind me?"
   Abiel's cheeks burned red, she looked at the ground emanating embarrassment.
     "You had said before we left that you wished to speak to me about something? Well? What is it? Out with it." Shiftie prodded.
   The color that had just filled her cheeks drained in an instant, her jaw tightened, and her eyes widened.
     "Twas nothing, a forgotten topic, my lord." Abiel's gaze remained fixed on the stone beneath her feet. "A bath is what is needed now, I think. I am filthy." She mumbled and went to continue on leading her horse, but the high elf gracefully stepped in her path. 
     "You are lying to me." Shiftie said softly, slightly amused.
   Abiel forced herself to look up at him, determined to lie her way out of this discussion. His blue eyes sparkled so beautifully, she was sure he was seeing straight into her mind, but she had resolved herself in the end that this was not a discussion she wanted to have with Shiftie after all, especially not after having had a successful raid, and even more so because she hadn't killed anyone that wasn't meant to die. The longer the girl stared at the warlord's perfect face, the more certain Abiel became that this talk was never to be had.
     "It was nothing, I assure you, sir. Nothing at all, my lord." Abiel tried to sound convincing, she MUST sound convincing, she told herself. 'Believe in the lie and it will be true.' And didn't she believe this lie to be true?
     "When you call me 'sir', I know something is amiss. When you refer to me as 'my lord' these days, I know that you are lying." There was no anger in his tone, making it all the more difficult to keep herself from spilling the truth.
     Abiel's voice felt trapped in her throat. How could she share what she'd been thinking? Especially the most personal of thoughts about him? What she thought she might be feeling could not be real, it would be unnecessary to speak of it. No good could come of sharing this. He had his secrets, why was he so certain that she had to share this one? The thoughts and questions would fade in time, she'd seldom thought of him sharing her bed the fortnight they'd been hunting for the Gurvir.
     "I assure you, Shiftie," his name seemed a foreign and bitter word to say. Abiel was sure she'd called him 'sir' and 'my lord' as long as she'd known him, seldom 'Shiftie' to his face. "...there is nothing of any import that you should be made aware of at this time." Abiel spoke softly, but there was an unintended sharpness to it.
   Abiel abruptly led her horse around the warlord, leaving him where he stood, ever more determined not to have this talk.
     "Stop." Shiftie barked firmly. "Stop, stop, STOP!" The irritability in his voice stung her. She stopped as commanded, waiting as he took the few steps to clear the distance between them. Abiel tried to speak, but Shiftie talked over her, and she fell silent.
     "Is this to do with Toatle?" Shiftie snapped. Abiel went to answer, the high elf cut her off again. "You need not fear to speak to me of him,"
     'That isn't what you said not so long ago,' she thought as he went on.
     "I may not always have the desire for him to be the topic of our conversations, but right at this moment, if there is something you need to speak to me about involving him, I am willing to listen, and you will tell me."
   The words were choking her, but finally they came.
     "There is no longer anything to speak of Sir. He has gone from the Range to the best of my knowledge. To where? I know naught. I am sorry, truly, I know that the timing of his departure is not the best, but there it is." 
     "I could care less whether or not he is with us, and with his leaving, yet again, it shows where his priorities lie, assuming he ever had any other than himself. What else???"
   Her gaze fled to the ground and her feet, the horses' hooves, his feet, so long as she wasn't looking him in his lovely eyes and beautiful face. Abiel took a deep breath and let it rush from her noisily. If anyone was passing around them, they took no notice.
   "Raxus. Raxus came to speak with me before we left about Toatle. He suggested...No. I cannot say it. It does not require repeating." Abiel looked up at Shiftie, hoping that he would read her pleas on her face.
     "How long have we shared in each other's company, the two of us? You have never held back your thoughts or your questions or opinions, even when perhaps you should. I find myself extremely displeased that there is now something you cannot speak to me about. Whatever it is that has turned you into a stuttering lame you will tell me." 'And it had better be a matter of serious import, or you might be wishing you hid your secrets better after I throw you over the bridge to your death.' Shiftie thought to himself and tried not to smile. She was obviously determined at this moment to keep the secret which he found oddly disconcerting but also amusing.
   Abiel swallowed hard and began again.
     "Before we left, Raxus and I were discussing Toatle, and there was...more." 'More that he suggested, and I panicked like I am panicking now," she thought.
     "He, that is, Raxus, made mention that he had discussed something with you not long before, the subject being..." 'Oh Gods and all the Hells, how can I even speak the words?!' she screamed to herself. "You... and I... Together. Or something to that affect." And then the words started to spill from her in a torrent.
     "Not that he was suggesting we had been together, but that perhaps we should be, once I rid myself of Toatle. But I didn't end things with Toatle because of you or for you," 'Great holy Gods shut up!' She continued to scream at herself in the confines of her mind as her mouth kept running. His face showed no reaction. Shiftie was as unreadable as he'd ever been.
     "When we left, I thought that it might be best if I spoke to you...with you about all of this, to set aside any possible fears or concerns regarding my feelings toward you or any desires..." 'SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!' "Not desires as in desires, not that you aren't entirely desirable, I think you know that you are, but then there's love also, which I do love you, that is to say I do love you, but I don't 'loooove' you. Well, what am I saying? Of course I do, but that's not to say... well, I think you do know that I love you, but, oh Gods this is just not at all coming out the way it should be." Abiel took a breath and was now ready to jump over the railing Shiftie had considered throwing her over. Shiftie was still as a statue. Torches were being lit along the bridge walls, the sun had set behind the mountain, yet the two may as well have been alone in the world.
   Abiel took another breath, it was a wonder to Shiftie that through all of this frustration, she had not reached a point that her feelings had become a stronger presence upon him. At present, it was only the slightest of feelings that he was sensing, confusion and a mild affection and desire. Mostly embarrassment, which he was sure he'd feel as well if he was making such an ass of himself.
     "Since the night I met you at my mother's castle, I have loved you with all of my heart and soul.  When you were gone from me, the feelings remained and have only grown since your return. But it isn't as simple as a woman who loves a man, wishing to be his wife. It isn't only the love of a girl who loves her father, or that of a loyal ward for their master. It's all of these things and more, but the strongest love I have for you IS that of being your second in this new age of war and monsters. I look to you in the highest possible regard. Surely, I am not blind to the fact that you see me as such, as your pupil, and why shouldn't you? I have a list of defects longer than I am tall and I know that you care for me in your own fashion. It has always been more than I could ever wish for and I am grateful for everything you have done for me."
    The high elf did not like to be told how he felt or to have someone presume his thoughts. But they had never had a discussion about it, so he could at least understand that at some point, she would have no choice but to assume. Abiel was sincere, that much he was sure, and Shiftie had no doubt that she loved him. Just as Abiel had, Shiftie accepted their strange partnership with a great amount of ease. It had been natural from their first meeting and even after years of separation when Abiel had been much younger, it was natural again to share their life and seeing her again at the Vale that first time had made the high elf realize how much he had missed her. When it came time for them to be separated now for days and weeks, he felt her absence more sharply.
     "There's really no proper way to explain this, is there?" It wasn't a question she wished him to answer. "We are as we are, and I want no more than that." Abiel shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what else to say to explain herself better, yet a strange boldness swept over her momentarily and immediately she wished she'd stopped there.
     "Truth be told, I reacted in a way I had not anticipated to Raxus' suggestions." She managed to stop herself there, she was sure Shiftie could read the truth of it on her face.   
     "Regardless I could not and would not presume to ask for more because you make me happy Sir, just as we are. I am truly sorry for making a trifle issue seem important." Abiel did not wait for Shiftie to respond. She had said all that could be said, it mattered not what he would think of it because she was sure that he had not wanted to be assaulted by a topic so ridiculous as this one. Abiel headed toward the Drok'Nol entrance of the Range. Shiftie did not stop her from leaving.


 

(5)The Yaruk

 

 Abiel laughed out loud- her mother and companions had wanted her away from the Gurvir, to be safe and to keep others safe as well, she surmised. Where ever she was, the Gurvir had found her, tried to kill her and many times over, someone had died in her stead. 'Death is the echo of your footsteps'. That had been the most honest thing anyone had ever said. Pouty's words seemed more a comfort to her now. Abiel was calm, the only calm being in the secure cage she was bound in. Despite the crying and pleas for mercy and release, there was an unnatural  quiet surrounding them. The captives could make all of the noise in the world and scream at the top of their lungs, but it would do nothing, catch no one's attention. No one would hear. Magic, Abiel deduced. Brilliant.  
  Again, she laughed to herself. Abiel had survived assassination attempts, hordes of well, she laughed aloud, Horde. Poisoned in the Great Forge, fleeing from the Gurvir armies only to fall from the cliffs of the Vale, assassins in the tavern at Sperling, the over-running of Coste Volte, raid after raid on Gurvir patrols that seemed to have emerged through out the kingdoms from no where. It had been more than five years. How many deaths would she overcome? How many would lose their life with no chance at all to return? Abiel  wondered if she'd meet her fate as some sort of chicken herder in a pink castle, what bizarre end was waiting for her at the end of this new journey. She was becoming bored as her mind wandered, came to appreciate the efficiency of her kidnappers, blindfolding her, binding her hands behind her back and not in front, her feet were tightly bound but not so much so that it might cause injury to the merchandise. The scarf tied over her mouth was clean, that she was grateful for. The problem with being the victim and being bound as such, was that it was terribly uncomfortable and tested her patience with every  lurch and bump causing her to fall into the wailing woman next to her or the other woman falling onto her.
  Until this day, Abiel would have been full of sympathy, ready to come to anothers aid and considered the sudden lack of feeling beyond the mild frustration weighing down upon her. It would take little effort to snap the ropes binding her wrists and ankles, to destroy everything and save these people. But saving them meant saving herself, a selfish thing, the most selfish thing she was sure she'd ever done. Abiel had chosen to be here, to let life take her where it willed, and if it meant sacrificing these people to make her own choices and live a new life, well, she was willing to live with it. The fear of the other captives was palpable, irritating. Abiel wished she had been kidnapped alongside others who were more prepared for such events. Such was not to be the case and Abi' decided she'd sleep as best she could until the time came to be a less than model captive if necessary. Amid the whimpering and stifled pleas, Abiel conjured a vision of Shiftie and faded into the darkness of dreams with him.
     Abiel and Shiftie danced playfully beside a large bonfire in the darkness. Music such as she had never heard emanated from the forest that surrounded them, they were alone yet Abiel was sure thousands of eyes were upon them. She had never before had a dream such as this. In all other dreams, they were at war or rushing to it. Always an element of danger. There was no Dragon, there were no animals, there were no friends here, only the two of them, her one conscious dream. She longed to stay here with him in  this wondrous place, the look of love in the high elf's eyes was one she had never seen before and was not ready to relinquish. The gem-blue eyes began to shift  and swirl, and change to a dark-golden amber that she'd desired for a millenia. Nasir was watching her, loving her, twirling her, smiling a smile that she could never remember him having made, but the same smile that Shiftie held upon his face so often. Yes, the two men were the same, she cared not and made no attempt to understand why the man before her was the ever-changing image of two men she'd known and loved with every breath in two very different lives, and yet somehow... Abiel felt herself smile a magnificent smile.  He was there as she had always wanted him to be...
   Abiel's eyes burst open behind the loosening blindfold. Whatever the dream had been, it did not linger in her memory except for one burning vision soft brilliant amber eyes that she did not know but felt terribly familiar, and a longing that nearly enveloped her in desperation. With that came a searing pain in her her chest and an irritability she could not recall ever having in this life, leading to a rage that could not possibly be her own. The cart jostled as it moved quickly over a rough dirt path. The crying had stopped, which was a relief and Abiel decided sleep was still her best option.
   Abiel was sure she would have remembered her dream this time had she not been woken up so hastily  with a body knocking into her. Shouting and screams of terror erupted. Despite the gag wrapped around her head, she cursed loudly, irritably- there it was again- and kicked out. She caught someone in the shin, a man, based on the grunt of pain and cursing that followed and immediately she was hoisted up, drug over what she surmised were bodies and unceremoniously tossed from the cart. She waited to hit the ground, let the air out of her chest to avoid it being knocked from her, hoping not to land on her head. Instead, strong hands wrapped around her shoulders, catching her and keeping her steady on her bound feet.
   Men began to speak rapidly, some yelling, others barking in a serious tone in a language that was new to her ears. She waited, tried to listen to determine how many surrounded her, then found that she was beginning to understand what was being said and was becoming as familiar to her as her own language. Suddenly, she was yanked upon by the back of her hair, forced to stand taller than she was, the blindfold pulled from her head. It was mid afternoon, her eyes squinted in the blazing sun. She tried to quickly take in her surroundings. A small caravan of secure barred box carts, pulled by teams of brown and gray draft horses, surrounded by a small but fearsome band of warriors of varying races and skin color. Half-elves, some half blood-elf, she noticed humans, dark and light-skinned, about two dozen in all.
   There were supply carts-everything covered or enclosed-but the man holding her- a light copper skinned elf with the height of a high elf but the musculature of a human, black-haired, heavily tattooed over much of his neck and shoulders, he wore his thin shirt open, he was muscular and armed. Abiel pushed aside the sudden knowledge that she understood what was being said, mostly debates about beating sense into her in various uncreative manners. They were angry about the interruption Abiel took long looks at all of the faces to be sure to exact her revenge at some point. There was a rustling coming from behind her in the cart and Abiel was wheeled around. She barely kept her balance. Two men carried a third to the edge of the cart where others held a canvas litter. The man being carried was set onto it, he was moaning quietly, grasping at his broken leg. A tall husky dark skinned man stepped forward to speak.
     "Oh please," she said haughtily in the foreign tongue she'd never spoken before, "you don't kick me in the ribs and expect a kiss. He got in the way of my feet."
   Abiel heard snickering from the riders behind her and she did not try very hard to conceal her own smirk. She received a slap to the back of the head from someone that had been standing behind her.
     "Are you trying to die or are you too much of a simpleton to know better?" He asked in a heavy accent in her own language and came to stand directly before her. "You are costing me time and that equals money. Mark my words- any incidental costs you cause I will get back tenfold from you."
   Abiel was struck by the growl in his words. The leader took the look in Abiel's eyes as a fearful understanding and agreement. In reality, it had reminded her so much of the berating she'd  received from Toatle, she could barely contain her anger. The half-elf, who appeared in body more of his human side with a thick muscular frame, stepped toward her, putting his face in her to glare into her eyes. He received a broken nose for his trouble when Abiel smashed her forehead into his face. Blood sprayed out and in a blink, the skin surrounding his eyes blackened, swelling his eyes nearly shut. He let out a slew profanities and Abiel felt another guard grab her bound wrists. She dodged a wild punch from the bleeding foreman, who found only the temple of the guard who had just attempted to subdue Abiel. A loud crash sounded and the ground beneath their feet shook hard enough to cause the ring of guards and her to fall. None of the riders seemed affected. Abiel looked up as she heard footsteps approaching.
   Standing over her was an elf of some kind that she did not recognize. Based on his tan skin and light golden hair, he looked as much a blood elf as he didn't. He knelt down beside her, gave the guards rushing at her a fearsome glance and they fell back. He returned his gaze to Abiel.
     "Two choices," the  elf pushed the hair back from her face so that she could look at him directly. "Settle down and cause no more grief- you can do this by choice or you can sleep for the duration of the trip." The the elf pulled back his sleeve enough to expose a leather and silk bracelet ornately beaded-she'd seen these before, but had never seen them so closely. The elf pulled a bead-headed pin from the fabric. If he put the pin into her flesh at certain points of her body, she could be put to sleep or worse. Zykon had told her of these pins, an art of his land, though to her knowledge there were no elves in Tin Wor. "Or I suppose there is a third choice," he said softly, replacing the needle in the wrap and held out his hand. A small globe of gold and blue light grew, hovering above the palm of his hand, tiny bolts of energy crackled. "It's not a pleasant way to be bound," he said and the magic faded.
     "I'll behave," she argued, "on my own terms." Abiel said sincerely. "Allow me to ride with you so that I may see the world. So that whatever comes of me, I do not spend my last days in a cage among weaklings and their disparities."
   The elf laughed loudly and almost fell on his rear end from it. He got to his feet, grabbing Abiel by her arm. He cut the ropes from her wrists, whistled for an extra horse to be prepared. A flood of angry objections flowed in several languages. The blood elf silenced them all with another look. The elf handed Abiel the small knife to cut the ties around her ankles. She stood straight and handed him back the knife.
     "My name is-" Abiel started but the elf cut her off.
     "Unimportant. I call you Ishiro, and that is what you will be called for as long as you are in my presence until our paths separate. You'll answer to it as if it were your given name at birth."
   A guard approached with a saddled gray.
     "With me at all times." Was the elf's final command to her. "You may call me Genkichi, or Gen if this is easier."
     "Your given name at birth?" She smirked.
     "Naturally," he smirked.
  Gen reminded her of Shiftie- strong, crafty, and wildly intelligent.  Abiel had won a victory today, she thought. To what end and what cost though, she was not concerned.
   Moments later, the caravan was on its way. Abiel sat relieved atop the speckled gray, stroking its neck and mane gratefully, silently, aware of the many sets of eyes upon her back. Happy to be away from the other captives and their "fragility", she was at ease and took in the sights and tried to catch long glimpses of her new warder. He was more broad shouldered than Shiftie but none the less lean, muscled and battle-hardened. He sat upon his saddle with a false-ease. Gen was comfortable because he was in charge. It was not the power that gave him the confidence though. No, she thought, just as with Shiftie, his confidence comes because of his proven abilities and because he knows all of the plans and because he has no fear of leading or of failing his duties, what ever those encompassed. The difference between Gen and Shiftie for Abiel was that she did not care who he was, where he had come from. Outside of being an elven race she'd  never seen before, the only thing that mattered to Abiel as far as Gen was concerned, was that he get her as far from the Lorelands as he could as quickly as he could. She would be the truest ally Gen had ever known, so long as he got her what he wanted.


   The caravan was larger than she had initially anticipated.  There were nearly a dozen carts and the crew totaled 40 or so  large well armed men and elves. It traveled at a faster pace than normal,  aided by magic over a well-worn traders road, wide enough for several large ox carts to move side-by-side in either direction. Being mid-day, it should have been warmer, but Abiel realized the cool breeze flowing about them was from an ocean. She tried to imagine Shiftie's maps in her mind to gauge their possible whereabouts and route given that she'd been taken at least several days before. For three days and nights, (Abiel was thrilled to be able to count them now), they traveled with few and very brief stops. The blood elven guards tended to the animals with their magic to keep them from reaching exhaustion. The human and half blood elves sought to the needs of the human captives quickly, efficiently. No one was harmed, but the captives were hurried and learned quickly to do as they were instructed and remain silent. Abiel rarely saw the others- men and women, young boys and girls, the youngest maybe 10 years old- now that she was accompanying Gen.
   She was always aware of him watching her, though she never caught him staring directly. Like most elves, Gen's age was indeterminate. If she'd had to judge based on human years, he might be in his 20's. For an elf, he could be 100 or 400 or somewhere in between. He was old enough and known well by the others, commanding a respect she did not see given often. The others deferred to him frequently over the actual foreman of the caravan, who did not seem to mind, and frequently sought Gen's advice himself. This gave Abiel a sense of pride and she sat a little straighter in the saddle by day five.
   Day seven and Abiel was road weary and bored, not to mention sore. Her legs and behind burned and she was tired of the seemingly never-ending plains of tall grass. Abiel wondered when they would reach the ocean, if that was in fact where they were headed. The caravan was making excellent time now, she heard the leader remark, despite their delays- He paused to look disdainfully at Abiel from his perch at the front of one of the slave carts. Abiel smiled brightly at him. When she thought she could take no more of the tall grass and vast skyline, the landscape began to change. The open plains gave way to rows and rows of trees. As the foliage thickened, Abiel felt Gen's mood shift. He and the men were more on guard, which seemed impossible given that they were always on guard, but Abiel said nothing. The road began to climb upward, even with magic the caravan slowed.
     "Stay close to me." Gen said quietly.
     'As if there were another option,' Abiel thought to herself.
   With twilight approaching, Gen stopped the caravan. They would be resting for the night, the first time they'd ever rested this early or for that long. With quiet frustration, the men began to unload their captives. In groups of three and four, the captives were taken into the woods for ablutions then returned to the camp to be fed, clearly the least favorite chores of their captors. Once fed, the detainees were put back into their windowless cages and locked in securely. The men built a small fire, using their horse packs and horse blankets for comfort as they ate and spoke quietly.
   Abiel sat upon her horse blanket, picking lightly at the piece of bread Gen had given her. She wondered if she should say anything, she had questions but it never felt an appropriate time to ask them. As the darkness fell, the summit was no longer visible. She watched again out of the corner of her eye as Gen ate silently. She thought of Shiftie, recalling how ill at ease she would have been in this situation, traveling this much and not speaking. It would have meant that he was angry.  The band of men appeared to be waiting for something, that much she realized. But what could it be? Were they meeting someone? Something? Was something out there? The horses were no more tired that evening than they had been on any other day since their journey began. Abiel fed her questions with the food in her hands, let out a long slow breath, and laid down at Gen's feet.
  

   Sleep came more easily than she had expected. Abi' awoke to Gen's whisper and a gentle nudge to her back. Abiel opened her eyes and sat up as Gen knelt over her in the darkness.
     "Time to leave." Gen said quietly.
   Abiel stood and began to pick up her things. Gen whispered again, "If I gave you a weapon,"
     "Who do you want me to kill?" Abiel replied quietly.
  Gen raised an eyebrow. "Stay close to me."
     "If something bad is about to happen, tell me now." Both Abiel and Gen appeared to only be packing their horses.
     "We are smugglers with important contraband. There will always be some who want to take what we have rightfully stolen. We have been tracked the last two days. With only two days to go to reach port, attacking us once we reached the summit would be the best plan of attack, were we to be attacked. So I ask again, if I gave you a weapon?"
     "And again I say to you, who do you want me to kill?"
   Gen stepped closely to Abiel and slipped a large dagger into her hands. "I assume you know what to do with this and that it will not find its way into my back?"
     "You can be assured that if I were to harm you, I would need no weapon."
     "Then we are at an understanding, Ishiro."
   Abiel did nothing differently than she had since they'd allowed her to ride with Gen. It occurred to her that she was much different in these circumstances when Shiftie was not with her. She felt very at ease, excited, like Raxus or Toatle, when a threat loomed. There was an eagerness within her that was often quelled. For all of the teaching and training Shiftie had given her, for all of the assurance and evidence Pouty and Juldain had given her that Abiel was in fact the Paladin of lore, she was always being shielded by Shiftie. She never felt this confident, this energized. And when she was panicked over his safety or that of her friends, she became an uncontrollable monster that harmed innocent people, stemming from an initial desire to protect. Away from him, away from their friends, Abiel could not remember a time in the last ten years where she'd lost control of herself. Away from Shiftie, she truly excelled and was the warrior she'd always wanted to be. Abiel had never wanted to be some legendary knight, this 'kidnapping' of her, was evidence of that. Abiel looked to Gen, who returned her gaze, waiting for her to speak, but she said nothing. She wondered what would become of her once Gen and his men saw what she was capable of and whether or not it would change their original intentions for her, what ever they might be. Abiel smiled weakly at Gen and pretended to focus on the road ahead, tried to remain vigilant should the caravan be attacked.

   Just as Gen had predicted, the caravan of smugglers was attacked at sundown as it neared the summit. It wasn't until Abiel was nearly pushed over the side of the cliff that she had realized it was as steep and nasty a drop as any she had seen, and most of her view was impeded by the growing darkness and fog rolling in below. Who ever they were, the bandits were adept and skillful, and there were many. There seemed to be four of them for each of Gen's men, making it difficult for them to fend off the raiders and protect their goods at the same time.  They used the trees adeptly, attempting to draw Gen's men into the forested area, but Gen's men were also skilled and this was not the first ambush they'd fought in.
   Abiel realized early on that if she simply gave in to the joy of it, the rogues were no match for her. She'd taken swords from the first two attackers she'd killed and was cleaving her way through the melee with ease. Gen and his men however, seemed equally matched if not simply because they were outnumbered and protecting cargo. While she truly couldn't have cared whether his men lived or died, Abiel was determined to see herself safely to where ever they were taking their cargo, and as such did what she could to help  the men protect the carts of passengers. Bodies strewn across the blood-soaked ground, this was a strangely-comforting sight for her, and on she fought without a care in the world. She heard the foreman shout and turned to see him on his back and a sword being plunged through his chest and the silhouette of someone tumbling over the side of the summit, a slight yelp and curse as the body went. It was Gen. In the darkness, Abiel cut down the raiders in her path as she rushed to aid Gen if she could. She found her way to the spot she'd seen him fall over the ledge and shouted for him.
     "I'm here," he shouted back. He was near, how far down she could not tell.
     "Can you hang on a few more moments?" Abiel pleaded and reached down hoping to feel his hand or some part of him to grab onto.
     "The rocks are cutting into my palms and the dirt is starting to give way under my feet, if that is any indication." Gen said rather light-heartedly.
     "Just hang on as long as you can. I'll settle this and get you." Abiel swore.
   Gen mumbled something with a snicker that Abiel did not understand. This little skirmish needed to end. She snatched the long-sword protruding from the foreman's chest and grabbed another as she went, taking care not to accidentally murder one of Gen's men as she went about hacking her way through several raiders and letting out a loud whistle.
      "Gen's riders, stay with your cargo!" she roared in an unnaturally loud manner that was completely new to her. Abiel hesitated for a moment before continuing forward. She could barely see now, but this was her element. Gen was in trouble and the raiders either needed to retreat or die as quickly as she could see to it. She took a deep breath and let it out quickly before advancing, Pouty's voice ringing like a Vale chime so clearly in her mind. "Death is the echo of your foot steps." "And so it shall be." she whispered softly.
 

   It might as well have been an eternity for Gen, clinging to rocks and roots, having slipped one time too many. He'd considered letting go in order to avoid the continuous stopping of his panicked heart each time he slipped a little further. When the torch flames lit the wall of earth he clung to so desperately, he sighed with relief, his rider Permun holding the torch and calling for others that he'd found Gen. Gen was not nearly as far down the face of the cliff as he'd thought and a moment later and to his surprise, there was 'Ishiro' lying down on the ground and reaching down for him.
     "Lower," she called up and the men holding her by her legs let her slide further down the face of the cliff until she had Gen by the wrists.
      "Hello there," she smiled at Gen. "Ready?" she asked grabbing him by the wrists with a strength that was hurting him as much as it was surprising him. He barely gurgled a 'yes' and Abiel called for the men to pull them up. Gen instinctively scrambled with his feet to aid in the recovery. "Don't," Abiel said sternly. As the men dragged her, she pulled Gen and as his body was pulled up, she twisted so that he was lying opposite her when the rescue was complete. Gen laid stunned for several moments, then pushed himself up to sitting in order to take a good look at the girl who was getting to her feet and dusting herself off in such a relaxed manner he wanted to throttle her. If the men had ever said two words to his little Ishiro, they were not about to now. They gave her a wide berth and stared in an unnerved manner not typical to their personalities.
   She offered him her hand, he reluctantly took it and rubbed his sore bruised wrists.
     "Collect our dead," Gen ordered the half-elf Permun without looking at him. The survivors rushed to help, anything to get away from Gen's pet. Gen picked up a torch that one of the men had staked into the ground and held it between him and Abiel, inspecting her in the golden-orange glow. The dancing flames and shadows across her muddy clothes and face did nothing to ease is mind.
     "Who are you?" Gen asked.
     "Ishiro," Abiel replied. She could see by the look on his face that now was not the time for humor, but she was as serious as he was, though he did not appreciate the answer.
     "WHO are you?" Gen asked again.
     "Ishiro," Abiel replied again. He wanted to punch her square in the mouth.
   She did not understand. The one order he'd ever given her was to accept that her name was the one he had given to her. Without being asked specifically what he wanted to know, Abiel was not going to provide any other information, lest it be a test of some sort. Gen grabbed her by the arm and led her further from the camp.
     "Who are you really?" he whispered, his frustration growing.
     "My name is Abiel, I am from Coste Volte, or what used to be." Abiel said softly.
     "I do not recognize your name. Should I?" Gen asked.
     "If you traveled further within the Lorelands, you might, you might not." Abiel looked at his nose to appear as though she were looking at him eye to eye.
     "And if we travelled to the Lorelands, what would I come to find about you?" Gen became sorry he'd asked. The look on her face told him he might one day regret having kidnapped the girl, although he now realized with certainty that she could have killed everyone and escaped any time she had liked. This led to other questions he was not sure he wanted the answers to.
     "I suppose it depends on who you heard it from. There are some that believe that I was born.... special, or at least to be special." Abiel debated on how vague to be. "Others believe that if I am special, that I should die forthwith, that I am an abomination."
   Gen stared hard at the exposed scar below her lip, wondered how she had received it now. She was always bundled, her cloak always tied high and tight. She had always been very careful to keep it covered.
     "Show me." he ordered quietly, not taking his eyes off of it.
   Abiel unclasped the cloak, already in the firelight Gen could see that it moved down her throat. It was old, that much he could tell,  the stitching had been crude,  terrible at best and obvious magic had not been enough for the would to heal more cleanly. Abiel had peeled off her over-shirt, she untied the lacing of the undershirt and pulled the collar down so that he could see that at the very least, it went down to her chest. She saw the confusion in the blood elf's eyes, saw him trying to puzzle out what he was looking at. Any warrior would know that no living being should have a scar like this down their throat and chest and still be alive. She'd seen the look so many times. The only fear she held now was that he would abandon her or for some reason betray her.
     "Before you ask 'what' I am, I don't know. Not truly. Perhaps I am an abomination, some sort of demon. Maybe I am... 'special' in the way that so many people believe that I am." She spat out the word special with such  disgust that Gen looked to her eyes. "Many people have many theories, some evidence to prove that I should live or that I should die. Whom ever is right, I don't much care. All I want is to live a simple and ordinary life, as far from my home as I can get, as far from their wars and the Gurvir as I can achieve." Abiel decided it was best not to mention the blood bounty and searched the elves angry eyes for some hope of understanding.
   Gen said nothing for several long moments, staring at her or off into the darkness.
   "It is a sacred thing, life. And you spared mine. This is a debt I am supposed to repay by never leaving your side, such is the way of my people. In this line of work, many are not held to the vow. I have seen what you are, I think. Perhaps you are a demon, and I would venture to say that you are special, even if this is something you do not wish to be. I would offer you a position at my side so that I may one day repay the debt and so that you might have another life away from your home as you wish. It is a small offer really, as my death is always in the balance of the life I have chosen to lead. As you have seen tonight, death seeks me."
   Abiel raised an eyebrow, this was an intriguing offer.
     "I wish that I could agree to this. I do not wish to hold you to your debt. I do not think I could stomach the snatching of people for long and while my backside might eventually get used to the hard travels of the road, it would only bring me nearer to my home than I would ever wish to be and far too often, as well as bringing dangers upon you that I don't know that I could shield you from." It was far more ominous than Abiel had wanted to sound, but it was the truth.
     "I would request a different bargain, if I might be so bold?"
   Gen waited to hear this trade, more and more questions growing in his mind.
     "Take me as far as you go, sell me... I assume you are in deed intending to sell us?" Abiel asked, Gen confirmed this with a nod of his head. "You've been doing this a long time? I am sure you know someone who would buy me that might perhaps treat me well?" Abiel laughed at herself. "An owner that would hire me for my strength and leave me be? Or at the very least leave me in a place where my presence as a Lorelander would not be unusual, where I might find work of an appropriate nature?"
   Gen stared at the girl long and hard. He couldn't kill her even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He liked her enough in his own way and his curiosity was getting the better of him.
     "I will take you to Yaruk. I know of a noble house where you might find work suitable to your desires, I am most certain you will be left alone and treated well enough." Gen decided.
     "I thank you for this favor." Abiel bowed to Gen from the waist.
   A long moment of awkward silence fell between them. Abiel waited patiently until Gen turned suddenly on his heel and began barking orders to his men that they would head on immediately through the night.


                                                      CHAPTER

   It was late morning when the caravan reached the port city of Farlenk. Gen wasted no time in getting his  cargo on board one of the largest ships Abiel had ever been on. It held five masts, with five levels below the deck. The ship's crew eyed Abiel greedily, she stayed a step behind the desert elf at all times. The ship set sail by mid day. The captain, a large man with a serious demeanor, approached Gen and Abiel at the bow. The men clasped forearms and began to speak in Gen's native language. This seemed slightly laboring for the captain, who was glad when Gen stated that Abiel could let in on the conversation, Gen knowing full well she could understand every word any way.
     "The weather stands to be clear, we should make port in about ten days." the captain said.
     "Excellent. Thank you, Captain." Gen inclined his head for a moment.
     "There is a matter of an extra bunk for the girl." The captain was pointedly not looking at Abiel.
     "She will need no bunk as she stays with me." There was an underlying tone, a threatening one, in Gen's voice. "I want it made known that any man with poor intentions toward her shall be buried at sea. She is my property."
     "Of course, of course!" the captain hurriedly attempted to assure Gen. "You have my oath that nothing untoward shall befall her."
     "I expected no less from you, Captain." Gen clasped forearms again with the man, who left them immediately and began barking orders.
   Gen turned to face her. "I hope that sharing quarters is acceptable to you. While I have every confidence that the captain will impress upon the men the fatality that awaits them should they as much as approach you, it only takes one to slip up." He could see that she understood. "As for the sharing of quarters, I hope this does not displease you too much. I will take the floor."
     "I don't mind sleeping on the floor," Abiel laughed. "I'll fight you for it." She cracked a wicked smile. Gen almost smiled, which was close enough for her.
      Gen led her down to the second deck passed the galley and modest but no less large dining area to the cabin they would be sharing. It was larger and more comfortable than she had imagined. Her gear was stacked neatly on the floor at the foot of the large mattress.
     "Isn't this lovely." Abiel said, taking in the room. Gen cocked an eyebrow as he looked through one of his saddle bags. "With a bed this large, we can share it." Gen looked up, objection written across his face.
     "We've slept closer on the ground. Afraid I'll try and steal your virtue?" she laughed. Gen shook his head and continued to search through and unpack some of his belongings.
     "We should rest up  a bit, they will be serving dinner soon." he said and removed his cloak and boots before laying down as close to the edge of the side of the bed as he could.
     "As you wish." Abiel removed her cloak and boots as well and laid down on the opposite edge, half-mocking the elf. If she had been tired, Abiel hadn't realized it. But within a few moments, the even rocking of the ship pulled her quickly into sleep.

                                     
                                                             CHAPTER

   A knock on the door along with the slight smell of food brought Abiel from her dreamless slumber, Gen sat up and pulled his boots on. Abiel followed suit and followed her keeper out into the hall and down to the dining area. It was loud and boisterous, most of the ships crew sat together in the furthest, darkest corner they could cram in to, Gen's men sat across the room shoving food and ale as fast as they could. Abiel followed Gen to the long buffet table that had clearly once been piled high with food and was coming to the last of it. Much of what was there, Abiel did not recognize, her hunger pushing aside the wondering of what she was about to ingest. She was sure to grab plenty of bread and a tankard of dark ale. Gen led her to the table where his men had open seats. Their conversation quieted when Abiel approached. She smiled sincerely, trying to put them at ease. In their desire to forget that she was there, but so as not to offend Gen, they resumed their conversations with all due haste as Abiel began to consume her food and inhale her drink.
   What ever the ale was, Abiel rather enjoyed the rich taste of it. So much so that she had had at least six. Gen watched her drink one after another. Some of the men were quite impressed with this and her intoxicated state had Abiel feeling relaxed, happy and talkative. Occasionally, she smiled brightly at Gen, attempting to engage him within the conversations, knowing full well that he would not respond, but Abiel tried none the less, in hopes that it would confirm that she was Gen's property and to assure that the men did not forget it.
   As the evening wore on, Abiel was less inclined to be the center of attention and excused herself and made her way up to the deck of the ship. The captain inclined his head at her approach and returned to tending the helm. Holding fast to the railing, Abiel closed her eyes, enjoying the rocking of the ship as it mingled with the drink moving through her. The cold did not affect her, nor the sea spray, but pulling her cloak about her felt comforting. It was a near cloudless night, the moon already shifting downward to welcome the new day. Abiel heard boot steps drawing toward her and turned to smile at Gen, who did not seem to enjoy the cold and damp.
     "I apologize if I offended in some way in the dinner hall. It has been some time since I have enjoyed the company of others and spoke. I am sure your men think me stranger than before." Abiel turned to look again at the rolling ocean in the darkness.
   Gen said nothing, she'd not expected him to. He stood firmly beside her, shivering slightly.
     "I am warm, if it will help our ruse." Abiel whispered, though it was doubtful much would be heard by the captain or anyone else who wasn't directly near them over the rushing waters and creaking of the massive wooden ship.