A Knight's Lilies

“The main Meltonian forces remain entrenched within the boundaries of Forts Fogwatch, Northveil, and Mistmourn. However, after a series of rapid raids we managed to pierce Meltonian lines and reclaim a significant area around Eichafen. Though the undead remain a problem, many have followed the raiding units north and should harass the Meltonians in the days to come. I have already dispatched Rittmeisters Kazimir and Gormsler to stabilize the new front line and request additional reinforcements totalling to four regiments.”

-  Letter from Knight Captain Baylein, Royally Appointed Commander of Bastion Force Mistveil, to Grand Duke Walden - Marschall of Northern Carrador

Sophie remembered the face of the man who had stabbed her before he choked her out, the pain, the fear, and his eyes burning with such an intense hatred. Her eyes shot open to find a forest green cloth roof over her, her hands pressed against the rough fabrics of a bed. By the Goddess, I need to stop passing out and ending up on strange beds. With tightened muscles and more than a little soreness from bedrest, she let out a small groan that a flurry of activity next to her.

“Bweh.” A strange redhead bolted upright from the floor, her green eyes blinking rapidly in confusion until they met Sophie’s. “Ah! You’re awake? You’re awake!”

Fuzzy memories slowly made themselves clearer and after a long pause her thoughts finally landed on a name, “Aryana?”

“Yes, that’s me! Ummm right! I need to let the others know!” Aryana hopped to her feet, the girl bobbing excitedly exhausted Sophie’s energy and she just groaned when the redhead bounded out the room.

By the Goddess what happened even? Sophie spent the moment recalling the events up until she passed out. She remembered defending the girl, then the druid spoke up, and in a flash the big man attacked and that was that. A small pain flared up from her abdomen and she grunted as she pulled up her tunic to reveal a mostly healed wound in the process of scarring over. The hells?

“....my….how excited…best let the…know.”

“Okay!”

Two voices echoed outside the tent, an older male one and Aryana’s. Whilst the girl’s remained energetic the older one seemed more tired, if slightly amused.

Her eyes were drawn to the tent flaps, waiting for the moments they opened. With a brush of gusto, they blew open to reveal an elegantly dressed elf, his gray beard and slight wrinkles showing signs of, in her eyes, a more middle aged if not older elf compared to most of the others she'd seen so far. It was a surprise for sure when she examined the man’s features; there were more than enough scars adorning his face alone to prove this was a person who had survived much. His attire too seemed much more regal than that of the elven watchers or the druids, giving off the air of someone in tune with nature but still more worldly than the rest.

He met her gaze and smiled gently, giving a soft chuckle before fetching a waterskin from a sack lying nearby and pouring a strange liquid into a little wooden cup.

“Herbal tea. It helps with the stiffness.” The elf held the little cup for Sophie.

Reluctantly, she pushed herself up and found the ground to be covered by wooden planks. Evidently, surprise flashed through her expression as the old man laughed once more.

“Think we all roll around in the grass? Truly, you have yet to discover the wonders of half your ancestry.”

That caught Sophie’s ear. Here was an elf not barking angrily at her or spitting in her face. Sensing no malice, she finally raised her eyes to meet him to find him nodding at the cup. She swirled the cup around slightly, watching as the brownish liquid sloshed from side to side. Hesitantly she took a sip, almost retching immediately at the taste. Bitterness filled her taste buds, her soul, her mind, and her being as the liquid sloshed its way into her mouth. With great effort she forcefully swallowed the mouthful, just barely able to hold it in. But to her surprise once again, something miraculous happened. She could feel herself lighten up, a soothing sensation picking up where the bitterness left off, and despite the awful flavor she found herself energized.

“Better?” He asked with a giggle.

“Y-yeah.” Sophie murmured, still unsure how to feel.

“Do you…remember much at all?”

She frowned, her mind replaying the scenes in her head in order to confirm things for herself before she answered, “Meeting gone bad?”

The elf sniggered and rolled his eyes, “That is…perhaps a more diplomatic way of wording things. Though I’m sure you have your own set of questions as well?” He waved a hand around them.

Sophie followed his gesture and surmised she had been treated of her wounds, but to discover if anything else had happened after she lost consciousness she nodded along.

“Mmm, fair enough. For now you may refer to me as Treesinger Vulen, I am ah…in your human terms both a healer and a priest of sorts. You will find your wounds well stitched up through nature’s magic.” The elf said.

Healer?! Sophie registered the words and immediately dipped her head in respect, “Umm…thank you for your treatment.”

“It is my humble duty.” He bobbed his head before pulling out a stool from the corner of the room to take a seat, “Perhaps…in return you would like to introduce yourself?” He gestured at her.

She very much did not like that idea, her mind still defensive after what had occurred. But the pressure to not spit in the face of hospitality was strong enough that she managed to stammer out a few more words. “I’m Sophie, a maid and…uhh that’s really it.” Earning herself another small chuckle.

Many thoughts whirred around in her head but most of all, she found herself worried about being a stranger in a strange land. I’m still in Melton, should be anyways, that much I’m sure of. But elves, druids, tribals and some strange girl? I’m definitely in over my head.

“Simple, but short. I can appreciate that. So what brings you around these parts? Forgive my directness but you don’t look much like a wandering tribal or even a traveler used to this part of the woods. Nor do you look like a local if you don’t mind me saying so.” Treesinger Vulen noted.

Sophie paused, she didn’t know much about what was going on, but she was still somewhat cautious. Her telling them her destination would mean they had leverage against her should they decide to stop her passage. Alternatively it was possible they didn’t care much either way, and regardless, she wasn’t even sure how much Aryana had shared, probably shouldn’t have told her about portals and anything really. She could’ve told them everything already. WIth a shrug she recollected her thoughts and answered the simplest way possible, “I’m headed for Melisgrad, the capital. Was going to catch a ship bound for Arteria.”

The man took a minute for the statement to soak in before he nodded knowingly, giving Sophie an approving look. “A long way from Carrador though.” He quipped, “Strange way to take though. Would’ve figured going south would be easier by…well going south.”

Sophie tried not to let the surprise show on her face, dammit, Aryana must’ve talked. She shook it off and shrugged, “Just happened that way.”

Vulen snickered and tapped his forehead, “Must’ve been a pretty big detour.”

Sophie tilted her head upwards when the flaps to the tent burst open with a flurry of activity.

“You idiot!”

A familiar voice snapped in the background and Sophie winced, turning over just to find herself getting bopped by the bottom of a muddy crutch.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” Annalise bristled, waving her crutch at Sophie menacingly, "You just vanished, vanished! For a whole damn weak and I find you getting stabbed almost immediately after! I'll get you to Arteria alright, but ohhh if I have to worry about you running off on your own to die somewhere distant, I swear."

Mila gave Sophie a welcoming scowl before narrowing her eyes in an accusatory fashion. Aryana offered Sophie a nervous if pleasant smile from behind the inquisitor.

So many questions, so little answers. Sophie sighed and finally looked up to meet their gazes, her mind already resigning herself to being berated by the others for her actions, “Umm so where should I start?”

It had barely become evening when Mila began berating her for dabbling with powers of the eternal dark, of the void, even if it was mostly through no fault of her own. Aryana, Annalise and even Treesinger Vulen had progressively grew more and more horrified as she recounted her tale in the dying city, leaving out some details but keeping the key parts in. Mila only calmed down when she recalled her interactions with Karelia, the apprentice growing somber and remained quiet for the rest of her tale.

Though she had kept tight-lipped about most of the entity’s words or powers, she did reveal to the group about the presence of Elaria and her newly acquired palace. At that, Vulen had consistently interrupted, trying to pry her on the superficial details such as decorations, aesthetics, building materials and a variety of other mundane questions. At first she suspected nothing but, when Sophie caught the gleam in the old elf’s eye, she grew cautious and tried to be as vague as possible.

Annalise then recounted their trek across Melton, the dead town, the elves, the druids and their journey with them to this meeting of the tribes. Sophie was immensely grateful that they had survived, though she worried about Taurox given that neither party had made contact with the minotaur yet. Still, she was relieved when Annalise reassured her that they still had just under a week to reach Melisgrad for the ferry to Arteria. At that Aryana’s shoulders had sagged slightly, like a pup being left behind.

Yet the redhead’s trials were not over, for the moment Vulen had shifted the subject to the council of tribes and the situation in Melton, she had unconsciously crawled away from Sophie, as if she was guilty of some heinous crime.

“I’m guessing you know nothing of the words with which you spoke that earned you your injuries?” Vulen asked.

Sophie bit her lip and shook her head, mildly annoyed at the condescending tone the elf used.

“She, that is, your new compatriot here,” Vulen began, raising an eyebrow as the girl in question tried to shrink away, “She is what the tribals might call, a mallvach, a cursed one.”

Aryana flinched at the words and Sophie found her trying to burrow into the back of the room.

“The tribes have a prophecy you see, one in which that damned druid knew full well before he condemned you.”

“Prophecy?” Annalise chimed in.

“Aye, a prophecy in which their days of judgment will come when a child is born from flame, chosen by the spirits to bring death and destruction across the lands. A being of malice, tainted by the foul chaos that seeps from beyond the mountains.” Vulen spoke.

A somber mood took the room as the others began processing the words, Mila looking more suspicious of the tribal and the elf than ever, Annalise more tired at being saddled with more responsibility, whilst Aryana just stared at the floor. All of a sudden Annalise seemed to perk to life as she seemed to hit upon a revelation.

“Wait…chaos from beyond the mountain? Does that mean the dark tide? The demons?” Annalise asked.

Vulun stroked his chin for a moment before nodding, “Yes, ‘dark tide’ as your people call it. The demons of the north have grown more active, sweeping in from their wastelands beyond the ice. Even the orcish settlements beyond the mountains have been displaced, a new ‘green tide’ if you will, that threatens the safety of the clans.”

“Damn.” Mila muttered, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “I’ve seen some reports but they were mostly unconfirmed back then.”

“Indeed, orcish tribes roam ever closer to the clans, threatening to push them out of long held traditional lands. As for her…” Vulen paused, “Another word in the tribes for the demons and the demon king are radaniach, the red ones.”

Aryana shifted uneasily in her seat at everyone’s gazes, nervously playing with her braid and trying to seem even smaller.

“Ah.” Annalise stated the obvious, "The hair."

“It did not help that this one was born on what you would call Saint's Day. Unfortunately it was also the day when the orcish raids wiped out one of the northern clans, and demons struck once again deep into the lands of the northmen.”

“By the sai-the damned hells.” Mila cursed, “So they were already striking long before they…they reached…” She faltered, her expression of dread eliciting a comforting arm from Annalise. “Just why is she important to this prophecy anyways?” Mila growled.

“Hmm.” Vulen leaned back with a sigh, “Greed my child. Greed.”

“Greed?”

“It is said that a child born from flame, a dark messenger from the monsters beyond, holds great power. To be a vessel of corruption but chosen by the spirits, they also say, means being imbued with both divinity and darkness that if harnessed could propel a clan to untold glory. Forever securing themselves in history as one of the greatest tribes” Vulen spoke with a grim expression, “A coveted prize, shall we say, and the damned druid knew it, he knew it and let you take the fall.”

“What do you mean I take that fall?” Sophie queried, casting a worried glance towards the redhead.

“Tradition would dictate something as important as discovering a mallvach, be debated with a council of clans like this one.” Vulen snorted derisively, “Which of course, would likely mean that the clan in question might have to relinquish some of their control. Greed then, would mean keeping her hidden, isolated from the clans until the time is right, to assert their control over the clans. That is, until a druid thrusts the responsibility of monitoring the harbinger to an outsider. Thus in turn, they can now put aside their differences to focus on you.”

Sophie drew in a short breath, what did I get myself into.

“Sorry…” A soft murmuring caught Sophie’s ear “Sorry.”

“And how do you know all this?” Annalise asked the Treesinger, who nodded appreciatively at the question.

“It is good that you don’t fully trust me, but here you can rest easy, we, that is the rangers and the druids, often share information with each other. Protection of the land for them and a way to monitor ah…your people, humanity, for us. The clans of the Frostwind are a superstitious lot, so they often call upon the aid of the druids who in turn call for us. Though what the true plans of the Moonlit Grove are, even I am not privy to.” He turned to Sophie and smiled warmly, “Besides, consider it an old man’s interest in seeing how one of the younger’s could have changed.”

“But why tell us?” Annalise pressed, and Sophie found herself agreeing, the man was suspicious.

He grinned and began shaking his head, “That much is for me to keep to myself.” He said, much to their annoyance, “But, I recall hearing you talking about a trip down to Arteria?”

With a cautious nod, Annalise answered for the group.

“Then I would ask, perhaps as payment for healing your friend, if you would mind taking her with you down to the south, away from here.” He smiled once more.

Sophie could not sense any ill intent, just a genuine plea coming from the elf when Annalise asked the only other pertinent question on her mind.

“Why?”

The elf hummed to himself for a moment, his voice dropping an octave to a more gravelly intonation, “Because I have seen growth, and though I doubt I would ever know the full story, I can sense much of the same from you.” He nodded at Sophie, “A lonely soul who only wished to find her place in the world.”

Sophie furrowed her brows, her mind going through a sequence of memories until they landed on that fateful night. “You! You’re…” She stammered but he only smiled in response.

“I’ve always liked traveling, learning, and adventuring, see?” He pointed to his scars, his blemished skin that differentiated him from most of his kin with their smooth almost pristine looks, “I’ve found much memory in the wounds I’ve felt, the pain, the triumph.” He spoke once more, his voice returning to normal, “And to see a lost lamb like you growing, nay striving towards a goal is heartwarming. My people and yours…” He paused, a flicker of sadness in his eyes, “Hold so much hatred, and here you are, an abomination born from both sides, yet willing to persevere in spite of the odds. Thus I see potential, an understanding face in the midst of all the chaos to come. Someone to help her in forging her own path in life.” He cocked his head towards the redhead.

“You were in the prison cart with us.” Sophie whispered, remembering the middle aged battle scarred elf, “But you looked…”

“Younger?” The man chuckled, “Good camouflage and makeup to blend in with the human world whilst I did my musings, though clearly not good enough.”

“Ahem! That's great and all, but just so we're clear, you want us to take her with us?” Annalise jumped back in, redirecting the conversation back to the girl.

“Ahh, right, yes. If you would kindly do so then yes, to take her to see the world. If the little lady agrees.” He turned to Aryana who only shrank away in shame, and Sophie felt something tug at her heart.

“Fine, I will.” She declared, much to the surprise of the other two, “I’ll honor my word, be her keeper of the flame or whatever I agreed to.”

Mila only arched an eyebrow whilst Annalise seemed a little cross, Vulen looked like what would happen if someone crossed with amusement with surprise, but most of all she saw the flicker of hope in Aryana's eyes. Was this what Eva feels when she takes care of me?

“I could take her with me instead,” Vulen added, “For this might complicate whatever your journey’s goal is considering the clans would not take this very well. I have reason to suspect the Frostfyres, ah that is the clan of the man who stabbed you, will not take this very well and might pursue.”

Sophie didn’t skip a beat and nodded resolutely. She could, however, also hear Annalise sigh.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say no, but it would help to know more of the facts beforehand, you dolt.” The ranger chided her. “Still, I suppose we’re in agreement eh inquisitor?”

Mila scowled and grunted.

“What about you? Are you coming with us?” Annalise asked.

The forcefulness in her voice seemed to startle the poor girl, but when Sophie met her terrified gaze, she just nodded in encouragement.

“Uhh..uhmm if you don’t mind…I-I would love to.” Aryana managed a whisper.

The trio nodded in agreement before they turned back to Vulen who seemed to have more to say.

“Excellent, rest up, pack your things, I’ll go get your horses ready, you will leave before the moon reaches its zenith.”

“Excuse me? Leaving? Now?” Annalise spoke with an incredulous expression on her face, “It’s already later than…”

“Aye, aye of course it is. But the tribes will surely call for another council to decide your fate. I suppose they could be lenient but the chances are…rather low. Though to be fair, I think this would also disrupt the Grove’s plans and that alone would prove interesting.”

“So we’re just an experiment for you?” Annalise bit back.

“Essentially, yes. But one I have confidence in.”

The ranger joined MIla in scowling, "Tsh, so how long do we have?”

“An hour? Perhaps two if nothing goes wrong.”

“Well…” Anna sighed, “I suppose we’re on the road again.” She gave Mila a nudge that earned her a frown, “You two should go get ready, guess the adventure’s back on huh. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook though.” Annalise feigned a scowl while pointing an accusatory finger at Sophie.

Sophie nodded sheepishly and watched as the elf went back out of the tent, the other two moving to follow.

“Don’t worry Sophie, rest while you can, we’ll pack your things for you.” Annalise reassured her, “Nice to meet you I guess, I’m Annalise and this is Mila.” The ranger turned to the girl.

Surprised, Aryana almost scrambled backwards before she gave a furtive bow as she rose from her seat. “I-I’m Aryana, it’s umm it’s an honor.”

With two acknowledging nods, Annalise and Mila headed back out, leaving the other two on their own. Sophie turned to find the girl looking apologetic and quickly beckoned her over. Startled, Aryana obeyed and inched closer, only to find her hair suddenly being tousled by the half elf.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here.” Sophie sighed, “The road ahead is gonna be rough though, you sure you want to come with us?”

“Mmhmm.” Aryana murmured.

“Good…good. I meant what I said earlier.” Sophie nervously chuckled.

Aryana gave a nervous grunt of her own and the two settled down and awaited the inevitable summons. Only the sounds of the camp and their breathing kept them company as they steeled themselves for the journey ahead. Get to Melisgrad, touch the king’s tower for some voidborne monstrosity, stop some weird cult, avoid the local tribes, save Riza and protect this girl. All before getting to Arteria…by the stars, Goddess grant me strength.