\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/762267-Chapter-Twelve
Item Icon
Rated: ASR · Book · Fantasy · #1896210
Rough-draft of a high-fantasy novel I will be editing for submission to publishers.
#762267 added October 7, 2012 at 12:50pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter Twelve
The gurgling chuckle of a babbling brook echoed through the forest undergrowth, its gentle sound creating a humming background for the waking birds. Ruffling feathers and stretching stiff wings, the young song birds listened to its soft percussion and added their whistling tunes. First one, then another- each voice had its own unique tilt. Some were sharp and stilting, others deep and languid. Some were characterized with trilling and undulation, others with stolid regularity and consistency. Before long, the cackling creek was matched with birdsong, creating the morning chorus of the wood.

A late riser peeked a dark eye from beneath his wing, peering at the ground below. He croaked sleepily and pulled his head out and forward, giving it a good shake. The motion rippled through the rest of his body, all the way down to his tail, and he stretched his long black wings to relieve the ache of sleep. Lifting his feet one at a time to curl and uncurl his toes, the raven hunched his shoulders, inspecting the still form of a man sitting by the brook.

The man was shrouded in the folds of his cloak, the baggy accessory coming down around his shoulders and resting in a pile around him in the grass. It had a high collar which came up around his neck and the lower half of his face, stopping right at his nose. His tunic and trousers bore the forest green and brown design of the druids, his dark boots and gloves signature of his profession. His hair, equally dark in shade, was rather long, kept back in a ponytail, all save for one lock coming down in front of his face held fast by an intricately ornate clip designed to appear as a great tree, roots and branches twining together to form a circle.

The raven cawed and swooped down to rest on Talon’s shoulder, pecking lightly at the clip. Talon paid him no mind and remained still, his eyes closed as he focused on his morning meditation. He allowed his consciousness to seep into the ground beneath him, his sense of touch spreading down and outward, as if he were casting out roots. He reached in all directions, a circle flowing slowly away from him as he tenderly grasped for the living connections all around him. The soil was alive. The grass, the ferns, the bushes, the flowers, and all the little insects and critters moving beneath the surface, searching, rooting, hunting, growing… and most importantly the trees.

A druid’s connection with the trees was tantamount to his progression. The trees were filled with history, and their roots and branches told much about the present. They stretched far and wide. They provided insight into the deepest and highest regions of the earth, rooting into the darkness of the underground and reaching into the brightness of the skies. Each had its own language- birch, pine, hemlock, oak, ash, aspen, spruce, fir, shagbark, hickory. Learn to speak with them, understand them, and they can tell you all.

As Talon spread through the roots of the woods, he felt himself become a part of those trees. He could feel what they felt, see what they saw, hear what they heard. He became the forest, and he knew. He could sense Kendra’s still sleeping presence on the forest floor just next to the last lonely embers of their campfire just as easily as he sensed the presence of the birds in the trees, the squirrels in their holes, and a raccoon rooting around for grasshoppers by the stream edge. He could feel them as easily as he felt the presence of Luscious on his shoulder, the trees and earth becoming an extension of his own skin.

Now if only they were close enough to Thradris’ hut, he might be able to sense his presence as well. Talon spread his sense of awareness as far as he could, rooting, searching.

Suddenly, the whiz of disrupted air rushed past Talon’s ear, a sharp twang resounding in the bark of the tree just behind and to his left as an arrow lodged deeply in the trunk. Talon felt a sharp sting of pain and had to pull back in on himself, separating the pain of the tree from his own body. He did not even bother looking at it, instead gazing the direction it had speared from, eyes resting on an elf hidden in the boughs of another tree, another arrow already drawn and ready on his bow. He silently cursed himself for letting his search distract him from so obvious a presence, so near, but he remained calm pulling back into himself. The waking girl by the fire, however, was not so calm.

“Did you see that?!” Kendra gasped aloud. “That arrow almost hit you!”

“That was on purpose,” the bow-wielder called from his perch. “I did not have to miss.”

“What is it you want, elf?” Talon asked. “We are not trespassing on your lands.”

“Who’s there?” Kendra asked, gathering her feet under herself and looking around desperately for any sign of the bow-wielder. Disorientation from lingering sleep left her confused. “Who are you talking to, Talon? Is it Riel? Or Thradris?”

“Thradris!” the elf in the trees repeated, his voice surprised and angry. He leapt down from the tree, keeping a steady bead on the druid as he slowly approached the pair. Kendra was surprised to find that his skin was not dark. He had, instead, fair skin, deep blue eyes, and hair as black as Talon’s. He wore the leather garb of a woodsman and carried himself with the steady grace of a well-practiced warrior. He was a moon-elf. That revelation triggered a faint memory, and she pictured a blurry map of Rokhr in her mind’s eye. She was fairly certain they were near the Silver Wood, home of the moon-elves. “What have you to do with Thradris, druid?”

Talon narrowed his eyes, wondering how much he should divulge. This elf clearly knew Thradris, but was his anger directed toward them or the night-elf? Was he a friend of Thradris intent on keeping visitors away, or had the mention of the dark elf’s name filled him with distaste? Talon could not be entirely sure, but he assumed the latter given Melonzriel’s insistence that Thradris did not welcome others in his home. Besides, there was a deep rooted hatred between the night-elves and the other elves of the surface. Perhaps this one and Thradris had personally crossed paths. Before he could craft his answer, however, Kendra began spilling their tale.

“We’re looking for him,” she said, excitedly, approaching the elf as if she did not even notice the drawn bow. “Because we think he has a dragon sword that matches my statue and Talon’s ring, and that he might know something about them that could explain why this man is after Talon. And Talon thinks he might be the Darkwalker who killed his father!”

The elf blinked, looking down at Kendra in confusion. “Thradris the Darkwalker?” he muttered.

Kendra nodded, “Well, we think so,” she replied. “If he’s the one with the dragon sword. If he doesn’t have it though, then the Darkwalker must be someone else, and we’re going to keep looking until we find him so Talon can avenge his father and we can solve this great mystery. See, Talon’s father was killed working on a book about some kind of history, and some man came to the druid’s looking for him and is now after Talon, and Talon got attacked on the road by these people who dropped their dragon statue that looks just like his ring and like the sword we’re looking for. Thradris might know more about how they’re connected and why these people are after Talon.”

Talon’s head hung down in exasperation and he sighed, though Kendra was grinning at him proudly. She tilted her head in confusion at the sight of his disappointment. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You don’t need to tell everyone we meet everything you know,” Talon muttered through gritted teeth as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “In case you haven’t noticed, he has a weapon drawn. I don’t think he’s interested in helping us.”

Kendra glanced at the elf who was watching her with a raised brow and realized her mistake. What if this elf was with the people who were after Talon? Maybe it was a good thing Talon hadn’t told her more about the ring. The elf shook his head and focused his gaze back on Talon. “It matters little. You are to be brought into our custody, druid.”

“Why?” Talon asked.

“You are not in a position to be asking questions,” the elf replied haughtily. “You will come with me.”

“No,” Talon stated.

“I do not think you realize, druid, you have little choice in the matter,” with a snide twitch of his head, there was a rustling in the surrounding trees as more elves appeared, bows drawn and ready. Kendra found herself amazed by their sudden appearance. It was as if they’d materialized out of thin air! She wished she could move as silently and stealthily as elves. Then it might not have been so hard to follow after Melonzriel.

Talon, while he did not look surprised, appeared defeated. Even a powerful druid could not stop that many arrows. He had no idea why these elves insisted on taking him into custody, but he ventured that cooperation was likely in his best interest. Recognizing Talon’s defeat, the first elf lowered his bow, drawing a bit of rope as he stepped forward toward Talon. Kendra couldn’t believe Talon was giving up so easily. She set her jaw in determination, standing firm next to her companion as the elf approached. When the elf seized Talon’s arm, Kendra bowled herself into his leg, sending him tumbling to the ground.

“Kendra!” Talon called in surprise. Some of the elves in the trees let loose their arrows in the commotion, their shafts sticking out of the ground at Talon’s feet, as if to discourage him from running. Kendra did not seem to notice. She was too busy trying to disentangle herself from the elf she’d knocked over. He apparently had some skill in close combat, but Kendra was far smaller than any opponent he’d ever wrestled before, and far more slippery.

The elf tried to grab her hair and she slipped under his grip. He tried to stand, and she tripped him up again. He moved to draw a dagger from his belt, but she beat him to it, slipping the weapon from its sheath. No arrows were loosed her direction, the elves in the trees not wanting to risk hitting their companion. Two did, however, move to the ground, drawing their swords as they approached Talon. “Run, Talon!” Kendra shouted.

“And get shot?” Talon called back. “Are you mad?”

“Make the plants move! Turn into a wolf! Do something!” Kendra replied, stabbing the elf in the leg and causing him to shriek in sudden pain. The move had cost her, however, and the elf snagged her ponytail. She yelped, reaching up to cut off her own hair, but the elf then grabbed her wrist. She twisted it, gashing his arm, but he just gritted his teeth and kicked her in the gut. As she tumbled to the ground, the wind knocked out of her, she could see the other elves who had entered the clearing tying Talon’s hands behind his back. She was dazed, confused. Why wouldn’t Talon fight back? Before she could do or say anything, everything went black.
© Copyright 2012 April Dawn (UN: strigiformes at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
April Dawn has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/762267-Chapter-Twelve