Dark rain poured through the light forest, drenching everything in sight, something that would have been noteworthy if they had not been traipsing through the area for over an hour, and already soaked to the bone. The two archers had unstrung their bows to keep them dry. The four were one of two search parties dispatched to find the missing child, one of a group who had been at play before the rise of the sudden thunderstorm flying in from the sea. Somehow she had gotten separated from her playmates, and his patrol had been near the small fishing village when the cry was raised. They had moved up the lightly wooded coastline, while the other group made up of the small sailor’s militia from the village moved in a similar direction perhaps a couple of miles further inland.
“Jonethi, you are from this region, do we know what’s over that next rise? Are we nearly to the coast caverns that are in this area?” asks the young sergeant.
“Yes, sir, my best guess is she may have taken shelter in one of them, but some do partially flood when the tide comes in later in the evening.”
“We better hurry, it’s probably too much to hope for that she chose higher ground and a search could take some time.”
A blink and it seems as they have already entered one of the larger tunnels. “Sir, there appears to be a light further ahead and through the cavern to the right,” states Keliendel, the lead searcher.
“Very well,” replies the patrol commander. As they round the curve in the cavern, they spot a small body lying loosely on the sand of the cave. Keliendel and Serinel hurry to her, and the team herbalist begin to check her over. “She is breathing, sir, but she has a nasty gash on her head,” reports Serinel, “and I imagine she slipped and hit her head, although it’s hard to say. I’d rather not move her if possible until morning.”
“We are going to have to move her, sir,” interjects Jonethi, “this is one of the caverns that floods, at least to this point,” pointing at the high water marks barely visible in the glow. As he started to bend to left the child, a barbed arrow flies out of the darkness, lodging itself in his right shoulder.
“Dark ones!” shouts Kelindiel, drawing her long sword.
“Jonethi, fall back around the corner. Serinel, grab the child and follow Jonethi,” the commander calls to the herbalist. “Keliendiel and I will act as a rear guard – get out of the cavern and head towards the village.”
The group quickly fell back towards the entrance, as several dark shapes scattered forward out of the darkness of the tunnel, arrows scattering off shields and armor. A grunt comes from Keliendiel, and she slows for a moment.
As they come to the last curve before heading out of the cavern, he reaches out for Keliendiel and murmurs, “We need to hold here. Otherwise the rest will never make it carrying the child if the dark ones follow.”
“Yes sir,” she responds, before coughing quickly.
“Relax, you have trained for this, we all have,” he says taking her cough as a sign of nervousness.
Quickly, a barrage of arrows fall towards them, apparently splattering against the cave walls, and again the armor, although one strikes flesh, but not his. Swords flash, arms flailing, he parries, and the combat becomes distorted, a blur, as they stand against at least five of the dark ones. He feels the burn of a slash on the arm, a cut on the face that causes blood to flow into his mouth, a mailed fist punching him in the chest. A thrust into the right opponent catches the dark one, followed by a piercing scream. Grunts flow from Keliendiel, and another dark one is dispatched. Finally, a third goes down from a slash to the neck. His companion stumbles but regains her feet. The remaining two turn and run back towards the tunnel, and it is over. Except it isn’t over as one last arrow falls, piling deep into its final target.
Keliendiel slowly falls to the sand at his feet. Three arrows branch from her body, two in one leg, another that appears to have pierced armor and lodged in the chest. “Sir….Elyrienne,” she gasps as blood fills her mouth.
“Hold on Kel,” he says, rustling in his small pack. “This is going to hurt.” He snaps the fletching off the arrow in the chest and pours a potion into the wound around the still remaining stub. And a few drops into her mouth. “Hold on Kel, it must of nicked the lung” he says again as bloody froth bubbles from her lips, “I am going to have to get you to Seri.” He picks her up, like a father cradling a sleeping child, and begins to run…….knowing that it is going to be too late.
That was the dark reverie I suffered last night, my love. Not an auspicious omen, as I am sure you recall that incident so many years ago. I am aghast at what it might portend, I have had no other visions, or even hints of anything regarding the Everlight. The only news is that I received an invitation from Adelaide via her sister last night, to attend a dinner at their homestead tonight. I would have thought such an invitation would have brought a more pleasant reverie……..
Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’ —–Elyrienne
Last Dreams 