by Rebecca Hb.
* * *
Kaen Kedger hacked his way through the vegetation with his long knife, the air getting darker and heavier the further he went. Cliodna's tits! Why had everything gone wild?
A vine with fish-hook thorns wrapped around his chest, pulling him deeper into the tangle. The eriu hissed in pain as the barbs cut through his thin clothes and into his flesh. He hewed at it with his knife, severing the woody vine.
He tried to take a step and found tiny green tendrils had trapped his feet while he fought the vine. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw other thorned vines snaking towards him. In front of him, the brambles twisted tighter and tighter while their thorns doubled and redoubled in length.
Kaen gritted his teeth. Glamour flared around him, incinerating the plants touching him. It faded quickly, and he ducked. A vine, its thorns thick and sharp, slashed through the air where his throat had been.
The vegetation was getting too thick before him, but behind.... The eriu risked a glance over his shoulder as he hacked at a root that had grown over his feet. It looked a bit clearer behind him.
He hissed in vexation and threw himself flat as a heavy tree branch swept overhead. It continued to sweep back and forth overhead, while Kaen desperately sawed at the thickening roots holding him in place. He had to get out!
He gritted his teeth again and summoned his rarely used glamour. It flared around him weakly, scorching the plants holding him. They writhed and released their grip. Slowly, too cursed slowly, the eriu crawled on his belly through the plants, staying below that frightfully heavy tree branch. His glamour aura deterred most of the simple plant tendrils and roots, but the thorned vines pushed their way through to flog him viciously.
The aura flickered and died as he got out of the branch's reach. He couldn't see any others ahead, but he stayed low to the ground as he moved through the underbrush. Vines lashed at him, but they were getting slower and their thorns smaller. Kaen didn't stay in one place long enough for the roots and tendrils to hold him, and that also seemed to frustrate the vines.
He lost his knife fighting off a bush that had tried to wrap its razor-sharp leaves around him, and after that he trusted to his speed to keep anything from getting close enough to be dangerous. Vines still tore at his clothes and flesh as he scurried through the underbrush, but the pain no longer seemed to touch him.
Kaen broke through the vegetation suddenly, into the daylight and simple grasses. He gasped in relief and straightened up.
A vine snaked out from the vegetation behind him. Moving far faster than a plant should, it looped tightly around his throat. Kaen clawed in vain at the slick vine as it constricted. Slowly, he weakened and his struggles became more and more feeble.
The strangling vine drew him back towards the seething mass of vegetation that used to be his village. He stared frantically at the sunlight and soft green grass, drinking in the sight as he was pulled back into the green darkness.
Black edged his vision as something flew past his face. There was an incredible release of pressure, and he collapsed to the ground, staring upwards at the darkening sun. The slick vine no longer tightened its grip, but it was far too tightly wrapped already.
* * *
Lirus Kher'Jil lowered his bow slowly, sweat dripping down his face. He had done it. He had been so afraid he would miss-
Kaen wasn't getting up. Why wasn't Kaen getting up?
Danu forfend, had he been too late?
Lirus sprinted down the slope, dropping his bow as he ran. He pushed himself hard, running as fast as he could over the uneven ground. A few yards from Kaen, his ankle twisted out from under him. He stumbled and fell, throwing his hands out to catch himself. He hit the ground hard, and his breath whooshed out of his lungs.
He lay on the prickling grass, gasping for air. He had to get up. He had to get up.
"Get up," he muttered. "I've got to get up." Lirus raised his head to look at Kaen. He had to get up.
He rose to his knees, then forced himself to his feet. His right ankle buckled under his weight, and he stumbled then caught himself. Too much time, he was wasting too much time.
The scout limped towards Kaen. He wished he hadn't thrown his bow away now. Unstrung, he could use it as a walking staff, and he could string it quickly enough that it made a better weapon than his long knife.
He gingerly knelt by Kaen and whimpered. Oh, Danu, his skin is so pale! He is still, so very still!
Lirus drew his knife and sawed at the dark vine, which parted easily under the fine eriu long knive. He tore it away from Kaen's throat, tossing it back into the twisting jungle.
He anxiously put his head to Kaen's chest, listening for faint heartbeats. For long minutes he lay there, and when he raised his head, despair lurked in his green eyes.
Kaen Kedger was dead.
* * *
Narcelia Lien'Mas placed her hand on the sylvan's chest, feeling it rise and fall slowly. "It's still alive," she called out. "Should I fix that?"
Her partner, Quertus Lien'Shern, glanced up from his watch on the village and shook his head, sending his myriad pale yellow braids tumbling. "Kaen will want to question her."
Narcelia glanced at the seething mass of vegetation that used to be their village. Even as she looked, the jungle expanded a bit, vicious plants sprouting up around its edges. She gritted her teeth and glared at her partner. "Look what it did to our village, Quertus! It's too dangerous to leave alive!"
Quertus shook his head again, his pale green eyes hard. "Not unless she wakes before we're ready, Narcelia. We have to know why and how she did this."
Narcelia kicked the sylvan in the side with her bronze-toed boots. It groaned and curled up around itself. "Why do they always attack us? They hate and fear us."
"The delegation-"
She clenched her fists, and kicked the sylvan again. "The delegation has done nothing! Didn't the O'Suilebhain murderers attack well after the delegation came under Brigit's protection? They are protected, but we are slaughtered!"
Quertus looked at her silently.
"Yes, we have returned the favor, but they always struck first!"
Quertus turned away, looking at the jungle in the middle of the valley. "Maybe you are right, but-" He cut off suddenly, raising a hand to shield his eyes. "There's someone coming out! Come, Narcelia!" He darted away through the thickest part of the brush, taking the straightest path to the village. Quertus drew his knife as he ran.
Narcelia followed, pushing her way through the brush. She could see an Eriu stumbling away from the jungle. Even as she watched, vines reached to grab him. She ran faster, grasses whipping at her chest, drawing her own knife.
Quertus reached the other Eriu first. He slashed at one vines and caught another on his arm. He sawed at that one wrapped around his arm, while the other Eriu scrambled away.
When Narcelia arrived, she dashed over to Quertus, cutting vines away from him. He grinned at her, slashed a vine that had gotten too close. The two of them backed away and were soon out of reach.
The other elf waited for them near the base of the slope. Narcelia blinked as she approached him, trying to place the torn and bruised face.
Quertus frowned, as well. "Marrack?"
Narcelia started as the other elf nodded. This was Marrack Shrike'Dond? She knew the vain elf vaguely, but she'd never seen him like this. His clothes were torn and dirty, his skin sliced. He looked terrible, and that probably hurt as much as the wounds themselves.
Marrack looked at them and then back at the mass of vegetation that used to be their village. "What is there for us now?"
Quertus ignored the question. "We've got to get back to the sylvan." He punctuated his words by climbing up the slope path.
Narcelia offered Marrack her arm in support, and the two of them followed Quertus. They went a short way up the slope, took a side-trail a little way up the hill, and passed through a thin screen of brush. Marrack sighed and collapsed next to the sylvan.
Quertus peered down at the jungle. He stood there for a long time, while Narcelia did her best to tend to Marrack. Elves healed quickly, but this was nasty. He'd been lucky not to bleed out.
She glanced at the sylvan now and then, but it never stirred.
The sun barely touched the western hills when Quertus finally spoke. "House Sgian's lands are an hour's run from here. Narcelia, leave what you can behind. Run swiftly and return with a mentalist. Also, see that messages are sent to all the Eriu houses, as well as to the Delegation." He paused and drew his long knife. "Marrack, stay here with the sylvan. Kill her if she wakes before Narcelia returns." He handed his knife to Marrack hilt-first. "I'll look for other survivors."
Narcelia nodded, and trotted out of the camp. She could hear Quertus talking quietly, and then his own steady footfalls. She had been out on scout duty when the jungle sprang up. All of her belongings were down there, everything lost except for this one set of clothes, her pouch, and her long knife. She was ready to get help.
* * *
Two hours earlier, Lirus knelt next to Kaen. The living Eriu breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. He could handle this. He had to act quickly and calmly.
Lirus tilted Kaen's head back, using one hand to close his nostrils and the other to open the white-haired Eriu's mouth. He inhaled and breathed into Kaen's mouth. He breathed in twenty times, then paused to listen to Kaen's heart. Nothing.
Lirus placed his hands on Kaen's chest, pressing and releasing to make the body remember breathing. Then, he returned to forcing air into Kaen's body. When he drew back this time, Kaen exhaled on his own.
Lirus sat back, watching. He wouldn't allow Kaen to slip back into death.
Kaen woke quickly. He touched his throat carefully, then looked at the other Eriu. "Vendui, Lirus. I have you to thank for my life, don't I?"
Lirus smiled. "Vendui, Lord Kaen. And yes, you do."
Kaen nodded, sat up, and looked around. He frowned at the jungle, but nothing in it stirred. "We have to find others, Lirus." He stood slowly and stretched. "I see you've a quiver. Where is your bow?"
Lirus tried to stand and felt his ankle begin to buckle again. He ended up only rising to his knees. "I left it on the rise over there."
Kaen looked at him.
Lirus blushed a bit and looked down at the mud. "I did something to my ankle, lord. It's hurts to stand."
Kaen nodded and offered him a hand. Lirus took it gratefully and was hauled to his feet. He tottered unsteadily, but Kaen supported him till he could stand on his own.
Kaen glanced at him. "Wait here, while I fetch your bow." Then he strode off, leaving Lirus standing near the slowly writhing undergrowth.
Lirus drew his knife and limped away from the plants. He didn't want to be too close to those vicious, mobile plants.
Kaen trotted up a few minutes later, carrying Lirus's bow. "Can you shoot like that?"
Lirus nodded. If his arm was broken, he'd be worried about being able to shoot, but his ankle wouldn't throw his aim off if he kept back from opponents.
Kaen handed him his bow. "Good. Give me your knife." He slipped Lirus's knife into his sheath, then set off. Lirus limped after him, unstringing his bow to use as a staff.
* * *
Quertus sighed as he walked around the jungle, reaching out with his glamour. He tried to sense any elves near the edge, but he didn't know if he didn't have the training to or if there simply weren't any. He hoped elves hadn't died because he didn't search earlier.
He glanced over his shoulder at the setting sun. It would be gone soon, but there would still be light enough for awhile.
The hill he'd set up camp on still stood higher than the one in front of him, but that grew steadily larger as he approached. Quertus paused now and then, kneeling down to look at trail signs or tracks. More had escaped than he thought, less than he hoped. Some had left the eriu trail signs, declaring that they were going to Solas's camp or House Sgian. From the tracks, others followed. There was little evidence of people staying near the village.
Quertus kept walking in the twilight, throwing his senses out. There!
He trotted forward, towards the three higher-lives burning in his mind. He dodged a long-reaching, whiplike branch and circled an out-jutting nest of thick, thorny vines. Ahead of him, he could see three elves moving slowly through the gloom. One of them raised a hand to shield his face, then waved at Quertus.
He trotted forward, almost smiling. There was young Lirus, the archer, barely touched by the jungle, though he limped. Caracellan Eire'Mac looked mauled, and she was moving barely faster than Lirus. The third elf, walking between them and the jungle waved again. Quertus felt his spirit lift. "Kaen!"
Kaen Kedger smiled as he approached. "Quertus. You've set up camp somewhere?"
Quertus nodded. "On the ridge. Marrack is waiting there, guarding a sylvan we found. I sent Narcelia to bring help. I went to look for survivors." He waited, hoping Kaen would find no fault with his choices.
Kaen looked at his two companions, then back at Quertus. "Sylvan?"
"Aye. I found her collapsed outside the village." His voice hardened, and he gestured at the writhing thicket. "We think she caused this."
Kaen didn't move, but the other erius could feel his tense readiness. Quertus and Caracellan had felt it before during the massacre. Lirus had felt it when the pain-maddened firbolg had attacked them. Kaen would protect his people, no matter what. "Take me there."
* * *
Lirus stumbled as he climbed up the dark hill. Immediately, Kaen gripped his elbow tightly, steadying the young archer.
Lirus winced when Kaen moved on. Their leader must think him so weak. He was slow, hindered by his ankle. He hadn't even hurt it while escaping the mess of the village. He'd tripped, of all things, while running towards the jungle.
He'd almost gotten Kaen killed when the thrall attacked. It had plowed into him, knocking his bow away and him flat on his back. It had been going to stomp his skull in when Kaen attacked. They'd had to fight on top of Lirus, and his hand had been broken. Fortunately, that was his worst injury, but he couldn't shoot his bow. Slow and weaponless, Lirus had never felt more useless.
He looked around as Quertus Lien'Sher led them into the small camp. Someone had built up a fire, and Marrack sat near it, watching a sylvan. He looked relieved to see them, setting his long knife aside.
"Lord Kaen. Quertus." Marrack ran his fingers through his pale hair. Lirus smirked slightly. Marrack must be so upset to look this bad. "She didn't wake. Stirred a bit when the sun went behind the hills."
Kaen nodded as he scanned the camp. "How are you, Marrack?"
Marrack frowned as he continued to finger-brush his hair. "Cut, bruised, sore, and tired, Lord Kaen. And thinking that we've got a lot of work left to do."
Kaen nodded. "Aye. Quertus, tell me when Narcelia returns." He walked away, passing through the screen of bushes. He must have climbed the slope, because Lirus spotted him on a point above and to the left. The white-haired eriu knelt down, going still.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Quertus cleaning Caracellan's wounds. He didn't know what was in the flask Quertus carried, but from the sounds Caracellen was making it was strong.
Lirus limped over to Marrack, eager to exchange news with his friend.
* * *
Lirus started awake. The fire burned low, and people were talking quietly around it.
Next to him, Marrack tensed and dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Shh, Lirus. Kaen is speaking to one of House Sgian's mentalists," he murmurred.
Lirus nodded and settled back to listen. There were more eriu in the camp. Some he recognized from his time in the village. Others were dark-haired, the telltale sign of Sgian blood. He blinked, noticing a black-haired elf and a firbolg off to the side. The firbolg had a hand on the sylvan, and the elf shifted her attention between him and the conversation by the fire.
A dark-haired elf stirred by the fire, shaking her head. The conversation quieted, and people turned to listen to her. "There are no minds in there, Lord Kaen."
Kaen nodded. "All right then. Torellan, bring the thrall over here."
Lirus wished he could see Kaen's face. The white-haired eriu sounded calm, but that could be deceiving. Then again, he was old and experienced. His face wouldn't reveal anymore than his voice.
The elf tending the firbolg approached the fire, her charge trailing behind her. It was well-trained, Lirus noted. Torellan spoke softly, "You have need of Malachite, Lord Kaen?"
Kaen nodded. "I need him to draw the water out of that jungle, dry it out. If he needs to shunt it somewhere, put it in the Well." Torellan nodded, not objecting to the order. Kaen raised his voice, "Gather your Glamour, brethren. It burns at dawn."
Lirus quailed back from those words. Burn? Kaen would burn the village this close to winter? Couldn't they fight the plants, rescue their shelter and supplies? He gulped, looking at Kaen with wide eyes. The white-haired elf glanced at him, then turned and left the camp. The other erius settled down, getting comfortable.
Marrack touched his shoulder. "Kaen's been hearing reports since Narcelia returned from House Sgian. The plants are growing too thick to be cleared quickly, and they grow back thicker than before if damaged. Burning is the only way."
Lirus nodded. It hurt, though. He loved the village. He'd spent the best time of his life there. And now they would burn it.
He leaned against Marrack, staring up at the stars. He'd come to the village after the O'Suilebhain Massacre, eager to help. It hadn't hurt that his house didn't require him to return so long as he lived at the village. He'd been allowed to learn to shoot in the village, something he'd been forbidden at home. House Kher had been feuding with House Helesigil for too long; none of its sons were allowed to be archers.
Kaen, though, had convinced him that it was all right to shoot a bow. Kaen had insisted Lirus actually learn how to shoot with the other archers. When his sister had called him a traitor and worse, Kaen had taken the time to comfort the weeping young man.
Kaen.
Lirus looked up at the point, unsurprised to see Kaen sitting there.
* * *
Maliar, called Morerea, tilted her head slightly as she heard someone cursing in the siabrian tongue. She caught a reference to 'trees too foolish to stay rooted'. Someone from the southern clans, then. Must be his first encounter with the sylvans' disdain for elves.
She walked up the carved steps of the house tree, ignoring the firbolg in green trailing behind her. Ah, there was an eriu by the bar. She smiled. Perhaps he had some news from home. She strode over to him, and touched his shoulder. "What seems to be the trouble?" She said, deliberately using the siabrian tongue.
He started at her touch, and frowned when he looked at her. "Lady Maliar, I-" He picked up a black-ribboned scroll and held it out to her. "I bring word of an attack on, and the destruction of, Kaen's village." He brushed at a lock of black hair. "There were few survivors."
Maliar looked at the scroll she held, her heart heavy. Always, always the same. Mortals always killed them, couldn't just leave the siabra alone. She looked at the messenger with her poison-green eyes. "I trust your horse is in good shape?" Without waiting for his nod, she raised her voice to speak in the Common Tongue. "Gather your things, Aboreal. We have a long way to ride before dark."
The End