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Bringers Of Sorrow Chpt. 1 Part 2
31 August, 2008
Author: Ing Twi Demalah

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The echoes of battle could still be heard in the deep places of Lapis, just beyond the tumult of death, a young elf of sixteen, with one blue-grey eye and one deep black eye, sat stoically in a corner. The cold stone offered no comfort, and no comfort could have staved his suffering. He covered his ears and shivered hotly, his tears began to flow, as he tried desperately to shut out the screams in the night.

Near to him were the shocked faces of two others: the Half-Elvin, Half-Dwarven children, Tiras and Tulon huddled together, but only Tulon cried. Tiras held his brother, trying to keep a brave front for his younger sibling, but his eyes too were red and puffy. Their father had peremptorily dropped them off before rushing back out into the battlefield. After the thud of Peleg’s footsteps dropped off, Tulon felt alone, so very alone. Still, shrieks of agony and triumphant laughs echoed faintly through the earth.

Both children recognized the voice of the young elvin boy sitting close to them as Evan, their cousin and son of king Rue, but they, too wrapped up in their own private sorrow, barely noticed. Tulon grew more anxious and utter darkness seemed to creep upon him from all sides. The three sat, uncertain, on the floor of a cold chamber in the back of what was once the mighty fortress HaKir.

Tiras, with Tulon in tow, got up and crept towards Evan. Evan’s utter stillness and soft chanting chilled Tiras to his core. Tiras was two weeks older than Evan, both born in the latter part of August and from the time they could walk, both had learned the arts of war from their fathers. Since birth, each had been a brother, at heart, to the other.
“Evan!” he shouted, but Evan couldn’t hear, lost in his quiet prayer.

A hard shake on the shoulder ripped him from his trance and glancing about quickly, he was suddenly aware of his surroundings again. Evan was about to cry out but was muffled by a dirty hand.

“Shhhh!” Tiras whispered. “Quiet, Rayah. It’s me.”

Tiras, Tulon, and Evan crouched together alone in the fortress at Crows Bluff – their fears accentuated by the shouts and the screams that grew all too less frequent as the minutes passed. And, for what seemed a life time, they leaned against one another for some sense of security.

A fallen boulder served as a door to the long corridor leading to the rear chamber. Peleg believed this a safe place, yet there was no safe place to be found, in or near the Odem settlement at that time, and the Grey Elves would leave none there alive.

Shortly after the din of battle had diminished to silence, the boys heard the cry of babies echoing in the caverns. Then, the screams began again, and the footsteps rushing by the ruins of HaKir. The sound of feet hurrying away from some unseen foe echoed, the boys could hear a woman’s scream, and the sickening wet sound of sword penetrating flesh. Tulon motioned to help those still outside, Tiras only shook his head. Both Evan and Tiras held him tight until he gave up trying to help those unable to hide from their Grey Elf hunters. Rustling footsteps tingled Evan’s sensitive ears. He heard them close by. Evan stood up slowly and quietly, his palms sliding on the cold stone wall.

Tiras and Tulon also arose with Evan, not knowing what he heard. Soon, they too heard the sound of more approaching footsteps; at that moment, the light of a torch penetrated from the crawlspace into their compartment and a face poked through. The soft grey eyes of a young Phonos male glided to each boy quickly. He gave them a wicked grin before he ducked back into the passageway. Pebbly stone rained down as the crawlspace grew wider. The dull steady scraping of the boulder slowly moving to one side was all that Tiras and Tulon heard, but Evan could hear the voice of a Grey-Elf Captain haranguing his companions, although the voices were so soft he could just barely make out the general gist of the criticism.

Soon, a brightly clad knight swaggered to the chamber with torch in hand, followed by two more of his fellow knights. Anger overcame fear and the training and knowledge Evan and Tiras had inherited from their fathers flooded back into their minds, as a river long kept at bay. Evan’s first kick came in low snapping the knight’s knee, he cried out as he fell forward, Evan’s knee met the Phonos’ face half way down forcing his nose flush with his cheek bones. Tiras grabbed the mace that hanged at the knight’s side and felled a second Grey Elf with a blow to the chest. Four more Grey Elvin knights entered the cave, alerted by the obvious cries of battle. Evan stood in the signature, ready stance of his people’s martial art. As a statue he seemed, motionless, his muscles taught as a coiled spring and yet still supple and relaxed. Tiras stood tall now, the mace gripped in his right hand and in his other, a small buckler he had lifted off one of the fallen knights. Tension lay thick in the air and in the utter silence Evan could hear the hearts of his enemies beating rhythmically. A glint of silver flashed past Tiras’ head and the knight to his left fell back on to the ground; The spear of Tulon having buried itself deep within the Grey Elf’s chest. In that self, same, instant Evan lashed out in hatred striking the knight closest to him in the throat, killing him instantly and the mace of Tiras found its’ mark and sank its’ spikes into the skull of another of their hated foes; The last knight tried in vain to separate Evan’s head from his body. Yet, Evan moved faster than the eye can follow and before a cry of pain could be uttered, he had snapped the neck of his last enemy, or so he thought.

“Truly you are of the royal line of the Odem. You three possess remarkable skills for ones so young, yet these Greys are known not for their battle skills as much as they are for their brutality. Some do find that fighting and even killing are arts unto themselves. However most use force over finesse when in battle.” A dark figure spoke as he strode from the shadows his voice icy and eerily calm. He seemed to Evan to be elfish and yet not an elf and his eye were a haunting white field surrounding a red pupil.

Evan and Tiras both noticed that even in the shadows they could see the pale hilt of sheathed sword in his hands. They moved in unison but found themselves quickly out matched. Tulon ran to the aide of his cousin and his brother but a sharp kick to his lower jaw left him unconscious on the floor before them. Tiras bite down on his captures arm only to have his struggles end abruptly with a blow from the butt of a sword. Evan felt the arm around his throat tighten and the world began to spin.

“Do not worry young one, I will not kill you for I was not hired but to lead this rabble into battle. Besides, after I tell Mikloth of your skills and your victory in this small Battle in the Caves. He will want to make sport of you, or at least to kill you slowly.” The dark figure whispered almost gleefully in Evan’s ear.

Those were the last words Evan heard before the world faded to black and he lay unconscious and unmoving near his kin on the cavern floor.

------- Author's Notes -------

Don't worry, our three young heros survive

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