Chapter 4
778 Words
Taeril felt very anxious about having asked this Varrell, supposed Defender of the Innocent to help him in his quest to save his people. She likely did not feel they were innocent, perhaps not her fault for the magic wielders have been in control since the incident and had turned everyone against his kind. No race is willing to draw the wrath of the magic wielders by helping a collarless elf, but he felt that perhaps this Varrell might be willing. He was counting on her sense of justice and he had heard talk telling stories of her but the only thing that had surprised him about her was how incredibly beautiful she was. He could not help but take note of her long dark hair pulled back and out of her face and that face seemed to have all the perfect angles even in the darkness of which he saw her both times. Her beauty was that clear. She was a warrior and she prided herself on protecting the innocents and if he ever got a moment alone with her, he would certainly tell her his story of innocence. He was fearful of what might happen as he tried to rescue his people and he had wondered where they would go afterwards but he knew this city had a dark underground and perhaps they could sneak in their and find some place to hide out in at least for a while. He intended to find some evidence as to what those magic wielders were up to and prove the innocence of his race. Free them from this miserable existence and hopefully get Varrell on his side for definite; he intended her help in the long run as well as in this small instance, but this was also to test if he could trust her and now her allies even though one is a warlock and one is a witch. That is what really had him so fearful, her magic wielding friends.
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Varrell had grouped together her friends, Arlan, Kessa and Decan the Orc and they ascended the mountain known as Heaven’s Reach. They waited at the narrow pathway of which Taeril had mentioned and the sun was certainly setting. Kessa handed around water for them all to quench their thirst after the climb and whilst they waited for the elf to appear. They decided to sit since it appeared the elf was late, and they rested their backs against the edge of the mountain.
“I don’t like lingering in a place so close to a mountain’s edge,” Decan said looking nervously towards the edge of the narrow pathway.
“He’ll be here soon,” Varrell replied as she decided to get her sword out and give it a clean even though she knew it would likely be getting bloody soon but she liked to take care of this sword. It was her father’s sword and her father had been Marrengate’s hero before her. He had been a great man and was killed by an escaped elven slave using his forbidden magic. She remembered hearing her father cry out and then she ran to find him lying on the dark moonlit streets of Marrengate a warlock having tried to rescue him but only got there in time to avenge him killing the elf. She had been a teenage girl at the time and that warlock whose name was Zakalis had comforted her afterwards and helped her through some of the toughest times. He had taken her in almost like a replacement father figure; that was until he had to leave on other business. He had told her all the stories of the elven magic and their use of forbidden magic dealing with the darker realms and allowing their spirits into this world. He said he had even been there at the beginning of it; as she remembered Zakalis though it had been years since she had heard from him, she felt helping this elf was almost a betrayal. She could not just ignore his plea; if there really were people suffering it did not matter if they were elven; she had to help them. That is what her real father would have done. They heard the scuffing of feet and looked to see Taeril seemingly having jumped down from a ledge above but stealthily landed. He looked to them; the golden setting sun making his pale blonde hair look golden too as though it reflected the colours of the sunset.
“It is time,” he simply said turning to lead the way.
- Writer
