Shadow’s Past

There, the trees were larger and taller, and the air was thick with a seemingly endless mist and shadow. The canopy above blocked the incoming Sunlight, forcing an eerie twilight over the surrounding woodlands.

Some part of it felt tranquil to Vaelara, especially because of the darkness. Despite this, harboring suspicions about dire wolves of enormous proportions was not ideal when seeking campsites. And it definitely was not ideal to have anyone less than capable of defending themselves.

Only a few minutes had passed when the Dark Elf proceeded to enter the wooded area. Only there to search for signs of the alpha, she didn’t expect anyone else to follow. From the slight rustling from behind, she drew her blade, pulling it from the scabbard. What would have appeared to be a longsword from the casing alone instead expanded into its original form, a worn greatsword.

The tip of the blade halted a foot before the face of a man that came all too familiar to her, leaving Vaelara’s eyes wide and mouth agape. He wore the green and brown robes of the Archdruid, lined with ornate carving and encrusted with an amber gem on the chest—his hair, a red-brown mane of braids that appeared undone and disheveled.

The form was unmistakable, yet his angular face wore a grave expression. Those golden eyes drifted down to a wound at his side, with blood seeping through the fabric. A sword, pristine and flawlessly forged to a fine point, pierced through, drawing a river of blood. The crimson stain expanded as his eyes grew lifeless with each passing second.

Vaelara could only watch, the horror replaying on her face, experiencing an old memory for the first time. The pain grew within her chest, tightening like a vice over her heart. Her elegant sword fell from her shaking hand, its weight dropping to the ground with a thud heavier than it appeared.

“Vaelara? Vaelara! Vaelara!”

Her body jolted back to reality, shaken by a pair of firm hands that held her at the biceps.

“Huh, wha-?” Vaelara stammered, her mind pulled from the past while a new figure faced her in the present.

Ethan stood before her, taking the spot of the Archdruid. His youthful appearance, short stature, and rough clothing became a jarring sight. Vaelara went through a moment of horror, confusion, and bitterness. She shrugged Ethan’s hands from her and forced him to the ground with a hard shove.

“Ah! Hey, what the hells?” The young Human snapped, quick to pick up his scattered arrows.

Vaelara stared at him for a second to regain her bearings before her scowling face returned.

“Didn’t think Humans were hard of hearing.” She picked up her sword, stabbing it into the thick grass beside her. “I told you to leave me be, boy! What possessed you to follow me?” She snapped in a low growl.

“Wasn’t going to let you go alone.” Ethan held his bow in his hand, and arrows refilled in his quiver as he stood back on his feet.

“It’s just surveillance!”

“And yet these woods have large wolves in here.”

“And yet I have to not only watch my own ass, but also a kid’s?”

“Young adult.” Ethan scoffed, readying an arrow to nock. “And you’re welcome, by the way. Doubt you would have seen the alpha if I didn’t point it out.”

Vaelara couldn’t argue with that. Not only was she never told of a larger and more dangerous dire wolf, but much of Ethan’s warning was clearly ignored. She felt as though he was also ostracized for reasons. She shook the thought from her head.

“You need to head back.” She continued her march, sword remaining at the ready in her hand. “I don’t need your help for this.”

“Well, just say that at least I’m willing to help and figure out what the hell is wrong in this place.” Ethan followed the Dark Elf’s lead, scanning the misty horizon for potential threats or anything out of the ordinary.

Vaelara sighed, unable to regain her isolation. “Clearly young and foolishly brave.”

“Thanks,” Ethan smirked. “I could say the same about you, Vaelara.”

Her ears twitched at the use of her name, not “Dark Elf”. She wondered how long it had been since someone used it, let alone remembered it.

“Know that I am older than you.” She continued to whisper, taking in the conversation.

“By how much?”

“Isn’t it rude to ask a woman her age?”

“You’re an Elf. What do you have to worry about?”

Vaelara tried her best to stifle a smile, his words echoing the tone of another. She clicked her tongue at him instead, refusing to let him notice. Not only did he have the nerve to ask her such questions, but clearly knew how to counter with a good comeback.

“One hundred and seven.”

Her reluctant response was met with silence. Vaelara stopped a bit to listen out, making sure the Human didn’t notice anything. She peered behind herself, watching Ethan mouthing off numbers in silence. His eyebrows rose in recognition.

“Oh, please.” He smirked, keeping his laugh as quiet as he could. “If I’m guessing right about how Elves grow slower, you’re technically around my age.”

“Do not equate my age to your immaturity!” Vaelara spat, continuing her approach to a clearing.

“Just pointing out the facts, Vaelara.” Ethan noticed the clearing, then further checked their surroundings for incoming threats. “Elves age more slowly and experience more, but you basically are young adults in the eyes of your elders from the talk of passersby. Besides, even a child knows that wolves are territorial and not best to hunt them alone.”

Vaelara nearly swore under her breath as Ethan’s words spoke true again.

Another pair of eyes encroached upon them, emerging from the mist and into the clearing. Vaelara brought her sword up with both hands, readying it before her as more dire wolves revealed themselves. Three of them appeared before her, low growling emanating from their fanged maws.

“How many do you see?” Ethan asked, his back to Vaelara as he spotted his own four.

“Enough for me to give you an opening to get out of here for the final time.” She suggested. “I’m doing this alone. No need for you to risk your life for a Dark Elf.”

“What does that matter if our only fighter is left for dead?” Ethan kept his eyes on the encircling beasts, ready to move once he knocked an arrow.

Vaelara didn’t answer, but she wasn’t going to push further. Not as dire wolves charged forward, fangs bared, launching out to take blood.