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The elf and the snarling green beast circled each other. The beast stopped suddenly, looking around in confusion for its opponent. The elf rushed from the shadow of a gray boulder, slashing across the back of the beast’s enormous legs as he went past. The beast toppled to its hands and knees and looked around until finally finding the cool gaze of his assailant.
The elf stood there, staring the giant beast directly in its malevolent eyes. It attempted one last desperate lunge for the elf but with the flesh of its hamstrings severed, the beast simply crumpled to the earth. The elf moved forward, gingerly placing one foot upon the back of its neck as it lay there still growling. The elf slid his dual short blades in their scabbards slowly, as if savoring the moment. Then he reached for the giant war blade, which he now carried upon his back, and pulled it out.
The elf’s body lurched forth as the tip of it fell to strike the stone ground, but he remained staring down at the great troll with a cocked head, as if the studying the terrible monster. As he watched the wounds of the troll begin to heal, he called the words to his god and the war blade lit aflame as if it were forged in the hells themselves.
He was wearing the armor of his mentor, and with its strength he drew the war blade from off the ground, sparks flying as it screeched upon the stone. Holding the blade over his head and bracing the beast with his foot, he drove in the infernal sword.
The beast’s head rolled down the cliff face, while it’s body lay there limp. The elf left the blade there, carved into the stone, as he stood above the beast gripping his fists together and breathing in great heaves. Suddenly, terrible shrieks rang out all around the elf. The troll was not alone in these hills and the others had come to see what had befallen its kin.
The elf turned to see three to four trolls charging down the pass towards the river running toward him. The elf’s breathing slowed and he took hold of the blade once more. He ran down the pass to meet his would-be assailants, carrying the flaming blade with him. As it came to meet the beasts he let out a great war cry, “Casin Cu Calas!!!!”............
That night he sat on the stone of the highest peak, a newly assembled troll hide tent protected him from the rain but he could still here it hitting the fire with a hiss as he sat there staring. There would be no reverie, only the flames that now raged within his soul. There was nothing left to cage the demons, the great inferno that began in his youth. His mind began to wander as he watched the flames lick forth to be splashed into a dark steam……….
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It had been almost a full day before anyone had come to find Laisren, still sitting there within the room and holding his baby sister. He had not known what to do, so he sat and waited for his father to return, but he never came. When the inn keeper came to collect the night’s dues, he found Laisren sitting there, still crying. There was no hesitation in the man as he walked over.
He tore the screaming baby from Laisren’s arms, and the boy just clutched forth confused and not wanting to let go. Then the man called forth for two larger men to enter the room. “Take da boy, he ain’t wert all dat much”, he heard the man say. “Dis one ere’ will make a good lil’ servant fer me daughter, I tink” he finished while staring at the new born baby, waiving dismissively to the two large men, who then dragged the boy from the corner and out into the street. One had stayed behind to hold Laisren while the other returned inside to recover the dead half elf woman, Laisren’s mother.
Laisren screamed and cried out, but the people on the street just kept moving. Some turned to stare at the boy but none did anything to help him and he couldn't understand, why? Then the inn keeper came out of the door and out into the street. While looking over the dead body of Laisren’s mother, he exclaimed to all those in the street:
“Dis is wha appens t’ dem who don’t pay!”, then he took a match as the other large man dosed his mother in a black liquid, and he struck it. He looked around to make sure all of those in the street were paying attention and then he threw the match down upon the body.
Laisren screamed, tears and mucus running down his face as he struggled against the man holding him, but no sound came forth. All he could hear were the cries of his baby sister as the man stood there holding her, looking down upon the steadily immolating corpse that once was their mother.
The last thing he remembered, as two of the men walked off as if nothing had happened, was the last man, the one still holding Laisren, looking down at him. He pulled forth a flask, and told Laisren “Drink!!” But as Laisren refused, the man raised the back of his hand and smashed it across Laisren’s face. “Drink, boy!!!!” the man said again and with stars within his eyes, Laisren drank.
Despite the fact that Laisren felt dazed from the backhand, his body began suddenly to convulse.
“Whoap,” the boy let out, as he sucked down the burning liquid. After his body’s immediate revolt, he soon thereafter became numb. “It will get easier,” the man said, and without a second thought walked off leaving Laisren standing there still dazed and confused. He had forgotten all about his sister and his father but he had not forgotten about his mother. He staggered forward to the ash and bone that was the woman whom days before held him and sang him lullaby hymns. He would never forget that feeling, that feeling of complete and utter helplessness…….
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“Peace be upon you boy,” the large olive skinned man told him as he took his position. The men of Calimshan, Laisren’s new band mates, then took their position in the thick brush.
There he came, a lone traveler. Laisren almost felt sorry for him, but he did not ponder it much, for he was hungry and this man was all that stood in the way of him filling his belly. The slender man wore simple dark clothes, a cowl and a sack upon his back. He would be an easy mark, Laisren thought. However, this was not to be the case. “Oh, good sir….,” Laisren began to exclaim as the man entered within thirty feet of the young elf. The man lifted his head up, and from underneath the cowl peered two glowing yellow eyes. Laisren was suddenly mesmerized as he watched the man’s next actions.
The man ducked down as the first arrow grazed the sack upon his back, and then suddenly a cry of anguish cried out where he knew his band leader Samir’s position was. Laisren turned to see a large white leopard pinning the man to the ground and tearing out his throat to silence the cries. Laisren worriedly look back to the path where the man was and saw him now continuing to walk down the path, his yellow eyes still staring at Laisren.
Then his band mates joined in and rushed onto the path from both sides. They closed upon the man, but suddenly he disappeared into then air. They stood around confused and stunned for a moment. Laisren, now seemingly terrified, turned to the direction of Samir’s slaughter and saw the panther was gone. There was a sudden, huge explosion. Laisren turned and saw the man with the glowing yellow eyes standing before him, hands smoking and the charred remnants of his band mates smoldering behind him.
The man stopped and simply stared at him. Laisren knew at that moment he was being offered as choice; stand and fight or turn and flee. He could now hear the leopard behind him, and feel the heavy pant of its breath upon the back of his legs. At that moment, looking at the cowled man with the glaring yellow eyes and the smoke rising behind him, he thought of his mother. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering her face.
Laisren rushed forth, a cleverly hidden dagger torn forth from his belt, he leaped for the man………..
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“Saline, I love you, will you marry me?” were all the words the Selkerdrim could muster as he sat upon the cobble path before the Tower of Doron. At this one moment in his life, he had forgotten everything around him. There was nothing else in the world but her and this one moment.
Please say yes, oh gods, please say yes he thought to himself. Then he saw the shining tears in her eyes, for the ring he had made shone like a beacon for all those gathered to see. It was then, he knew he would spend the rest of his decades loving this woman.
“Yes,” she said in a whisper and tears came to both their eyes. He remembered kissing her gently as the world began to materialize once more around them and he heard the cheers of others, their kin and friends. Their lips parted and the couple felt the warm touch of Lady Luthien’s hands grasping their arms. They turned to see the High Priestess smiling upon them, and their beloved Mathora standing and clapping behind her. Even his friend, the ranger Catam, was there blushing in the background. Catam was the only elf who knew Laisren’s truth, other than Saline, and Laisren turned to the half elf to give him a nod of thanks.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, Laisren stood with his chin held high in the air and was proud. He was not proud of the prowess he had gained, nor the power he had gleaned, for none of that had ever settled the empty fire that had burned inside of him. Rather it was the love of this woman, which would set his soul free.
They went out into the night, a true band of elves moving under the brilliance of the full moon’s light. They laughed, fought, and danced to the pinnacle of Durlag’s Tower. Looking out across the vast southern expanse, Laisren wrapped his arms around Saline and she rested her head upon his shoulder. That moment was more beautiful than any he would ever know but then he noticed the moistness within Saline’s eyes as she looked up at him.
“What tis the matter my lady?” was his concerned response, wishing to know why. She just stared up at him a moment. “I’m just happy,” is all she retorted as she blinked and continued to look up at him. He squeezed her tightly in both arms and kissed her forehead, as they both now stared out into the expanse.
He did not remember how they arrived home but when he went to her chambers the next day, she was gone……………..
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The fire had long died out and the rain had overtaken his small camp, but he stayed there staring. Suddenly his concentration was broken by a figure moving up the path, though he could not quite make it out. His sight was rapidly diminishing, not having reverie in three days now. Finally, as the figured moved within a few yards, Laisren could make it out.
“Mendel?” Laisren asked somewhat distantly as he looked up incoherently to his friend.
“Yes Captain, it is time to come home,” the large elf said and suddenly the burning pain of Laisren's life came flooding back to him........
// I would like to thank my editor and wife for her perseverance and love. It is both her inspiration and grammatical skill that helped to forge this post after my overindulgence in Belgium Beer
) but alas Laisren back-story has come to a conclusion. I would like to thank all of the characters that were taken from IG and used in this journal, without your support this would not have been such an enjoyable escape for me.
