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Prologue

I was born in the early morning hours, when the mists still hung heavily in the chill air, far in the distant past. My dam and my sire, Fire Weaver and Sky Splitter, who are among those referred to as "First Ones", were filled with joy at my arrival, as is generally true of all parents. I was given the name "Mist Runner", I was later told, because I pumped my tiny arms and legs as if I was trying to run through the cool early morning mists.

We are an ancient people, one of the five Elder Races on the world of Y'Nahra. We call ourselves the Ayoona-Lu-Nehm'a, which means "The People of the Forests". The First Ones have existed on this world since its earliest days, and from them the five immortal Elder Races sprang. Of my own people, we are artists, poets, healers, magic wielders, and fierce warriors of great pride and skill who value truth and honor above all else. We live in harmony with the land and have a deep respect for all life. We live simply, though our lives are rich with culture and a natural understanding of the Great Circle of Life.

From the earliest of ages, we have lived in a vast area known as The Great Forest--a living whole with its own special awareness--where evil cannot enter. In return for all that it provides we act as caretakers and protectors of all things wild and free, taking only what little we need to sustain ourselves. We are content to live within our ancestral homelands, though some of us will occasionally travel the world to see and learn. We do not hesitate to come to the aid of those in need, or to teach if asked. Over the course of time, however, there have been some among the younger races who have attempted to invade our lands with force. We always resisted, determined to live free according to our own ways. The invaders would learn that we could not be matched in battle and would soon leave us be. We always had peaceful relations with many of the younger races, such as the Cunatii, the Pumatii, the Skunatii and the Vulpinii who were collectively called The People of the Woodlands. The "furless ones", such as the Eastlanders, the Southlanders and the Westlanders, took a bit more time and effort to develop peaceful relations with. In more recent times, however, there came a new group of "furless ones" from the southeastern part of the continent known as The Wastelands. They led a brutal existence with little regard for Life...a horrific existence to our minds, and worst of all they fought as madmen bent upon utter destruction of all in their path if any did not instantly drop on the ground and immediately convert to their ways. For those such as the Woodland People, these Wastelanders viewed them as "demon animals that walked upright", and would simply strive to kill them whenever possible.

When we first encountered these strangers, we thought their minds must surely have been affected by the twisted and barren Wastelands they came from. They tried to rush us in their religious hatred of any who were different. Much to their utter astonishment and confusion, as well as to their despair, they found that they were of no match for our defenders. After two wars and several skirmishes, they eventually agreed to an uneasy truce. Basically, as long as they left us alone, we would leave them alone.

Among themselves the Wastelanders are of two camps in their beliefs, and hostilities are growing between them. Both sides tend to be rigid and inflexible, firmly entrenched in their belief of inflicting their own version of order--not only upon others, but also on the world itself. In the eyes, hearts and minds of my own people, this shows a horrible disrespect to the Great Circle of Life. We watch in great sadness as they force their surroundings into unnatural shapes, and as they force their people to live a joyless life. They are ruled by despots who claim to know the Divine Will, and they treat their own females nearly as cruelly as they do their slaves. The average Wastelander tends to view us with superstitious awe, and even fear. Their warriors hold us in grudging respect. Their merchants have learned that we are fair in all our dealings.

I begin this tale as I am making my way home from conducting my yearly trades. I typically begin my route near the time of the spring equinox and generally return to my den sometime during the summer. I spend as much of the rest of the year as I can with my love mate, Red Moon. She makes small pottery jars and then fills them with various herbal preparations--ointments, salves, tea mixtures, unguents, and the like. I take these to trade for other things, beginning in the village of Cedar Knoll, about three days east of The Great Forest. The village is near a river that flows out of our homeland and eventually joins with a much larger river called the Silver Mist that comes down out of the northern mountains. For the past twenty turns of the seasons, I have begun and ended my trading trips at an establishment there called The Glass Dove Inn. I have formed a friendship with two mortals who call the village their home: Alnakh, the proprietor of the inn, and Salzar, the sergeant of the village guard. When I started out this spring, all seemed normal enough, though when I stopped again in Cedar Knoll on my way home, things ended up becoming anything_but_ normal.

---

-1-

Meetings

I stopped at The Glass Dove Inn, which is located in the Wastelander village of Cedar Knoll, about three days on foot across the grasslands from the eastern edge of The Great Forest. I had met the current owner, a Wastelander male by the name of Alnakh, twenty turns of the seasons ago. Alnakh is a bit different from most of the Wastelanders who settled in this area over the past eight hundred turns of the seasons--he's friendly, generous, and not prone to the superstitious fear of those who are different. While making my annual trades, I generally stop at his inn for at least a meal and to exchange news with Alnakh, though sometimes I will make use of the bathing facilities when possible.

This evening started out much the same as always, with several regular customers in the common room enjoying a meal or a drink. Nezcha, the servant girl, was cleaning tables and attending to the customers, one of which was an older male--a high-level cleric of the Dahl-Mahb sect by his clothing--sitting off to one side . A party of five rough looking males came in, dressed in the style of the Dahl-Shan sect of the Wastelanders. This group of males seemed to be in their twenties to thirties, and was loud, obnoxious, and rude--especially to Nezcha. Alnakh, who like the cleric is of the Dahl-Mahb sect, was clearly nervous at their arrival, so I quickly sized them up, and, while disguising my interest, kept a close eye on them.

The longer the Dahl-Shans were there, the more their arrogance became tinged with hostility. While everyone else seemed nervous, I was becoming rather annoyed with the group. Suddenly the leader got up and grabbed Nezcha. He roughly tossed her down onto their table, causing her to scream, and his companions cheered him on. At that point, I had had quite enough and was not going to allow Nezcha to come to harm. With a loud snarl, I leapt to my feet and ran to their table. I grabbed the leader and threw him forcefully across the room. I howled in rage and told them in no uncertain terms that I would rip the throats out of anyone who would lay a hand on the girl.

After their initial shock, one of the other males in the group nervously said, "It is death for any_se'fris-qat*[1]*_who would strike one of our people."

I saw his hand reach for his dagger, so I snatched up Nezcha from the table and I quickly unsheathed my sword, Battle Fang. Sensing the shift in my thoughts, the magic in my sword became active, and the blade began to glow with a swirling, reddish light. Little tendrils of the light seemed to reach out hungrily towards the male while the weapon made an unnerving, quiet howling sound that one couldn't be sure if they heard it with their ears, or in their mind, or both.

Curling my lip in a low snarl I said quietly, "Oh, really. There is one of me and only five of you...hmm, better make that four," giving a little nod towards their unconscious leader still sprawled out on the floor. "Since I'm immortal and you're not, the odds are definitely not in your favor. Perhaps you wish to reconsider."

The male spread his fingers and slowly drew back his hand, holding both up in a gesture of submission.

I lowered the tip of my sword slightly and said, "A wise choice. I think that you should call it an evening and return to your homes. Oh, and don't forget to pay for your meal before you leave."

They quickly gathered up their leader and tossed some coin on the table and left. When the last one went out the door, I forced myself to calm down, causing the sword's magic to go back to sleep, and I returned it to its scabbard. Poor Nezcha was shaken up, but otherwise unharmed. I gave her a hug and quietly told her that she was safe now, and suggested that she should go back to the kitchen to rest for a while.

"Thank you, Mist Runner...I'm glad you were here this evening," she said softly with a little sigh of relief.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. I hate to scare away Alnakh's customers, but I hope those fools don't come back."

When Nezcha left for the kitchen, I straightened up the place, telling Alnakh that I would pay for any damages.

"I'm glad they are gone, my friend. They have caused trouble here before. It's fortunate you were here this evening, otherwise I fear Nezcha may have come to harm," Alnakh said gratefully.

He collected their money and went about his business. The older cleric who was sitting off to the side had finished his meal and pushed his plate away. He seemed as if he was deciding what to do next. Eventually he got up from his seat and nervously made his way over to my table near the fireplace. I looked up as he approached--he was startled when he saw the firelight reflected in my eyes. I could readily tell that he was quite nervous, though I wasn't sure if it was from being so near to one of my kind, or that someone might see him in my company. He reminded me a small animal that had found itself nearly surrounded by predators.

Using the Common Tongue I asked, "Do you understand my words?"

The older cleric nodded his head and said, "I am Khe'strah Kh'rol-Mahb, the High Cleric of both the Dahl-Mahb and Dahl-Shan sects of our people."

Out of courtesy, I stood and greeted him in the traditional manner of the Wastelanders, "Ahnsa T'siru Kh'rol-Mahb*[2]*. I am Sire Mist Runner, of the Ayoona-Lu-Nehm'a."

The High Cleric drew in a sharp breath as he looked up at me for I stand head and shoulders above him.

"Ahnsa T'siru K'tek*[3]*," he said, giving the traditional reply.

I gestured to the seat across from mine and said, "Please, sit and have some tea with me."

As we both took our seats, I saw Nezcha coming out of the kitchen so I waved to get her attention. When she saw me, I held up my mug and nodded towards the High Cleric. Nezcha nodded her head and went back to get some more tea and another cup.

"That was quite a thing you did earlier, coming to the aid of a mere slave girl," the High Cleric said.

I quietly snorted and said, "I've known Nezcha ever since Alnakh first brought her home. She is a nice young person who doesn't deserve to wear that_thing_around her neck. I understand why Alnakh ended up with her, but still...it pains me to see that slave collar on her. At least he treats her as if she was one of his own, and is allowing her to work towards earning her freedom."

"I take it that you don't approve of her status in our society," the High Cleric said.

I held off replying right away as Nezcha brought some more tea and the second cup to the table.

"Is there anything else that I can get for you sirs?" Nezcha asked politely.

The High Cleric gave a casual dismissive wave to indicate that he required nothing else.

"I'm fine for now, dear," I replied with a grin.

Nezcha smiled briefly and headed off to continue her work.

I turned my attention back to the High Cleric and looking him straight in the eye I said, "No, I do not." I took a slow drink of my tea and asked politely, "So, what is it that you require of one of my people?"

The High Cleric fidgeted a bit and replied in the thick, guttural accent of his kind, "The nature of what I must do is a very sensitive matter and I cannot afford to take chances. I need someone who can be trusted, someone who cannot be swayed or influenced by bribes or threats. Your people are well known for being honorable, though I must admit that mine look upon yours with fear and superstition. I wish to employ a protector for someone, a young girl. Soon there will be a Grand Council of Elders, where all of the religious leaders of our people will gather, and the main thing to be dealt with will be the issue concerning this girl."

"What's so special about her that she needs a neutral protector?" I asked.

"She is a particular descendent of our greatest holy man, and now that she will soon be coming of age, various factions have formed and each side is willing to fight and kill for possession of her--or to do away with her in order to prevent someone else from obtaining her. Even now forces are gathering and there may well be a terrible war," he replied.

"Forgive me for asking this next question, but what does this have to do with us?" I asked.

"You do not understand the depths of treachery some will go to in order to bring woe and chaos to others over this girl. My office has already uncovered several plots, some of which could very well end up pitting the various peoples of this land against each other," he replied.

The High Cleric spoke with fervent passion that the girl must be protected at all costs, though his own people could not be trusted with her protection.

I thought very carefully for a bit and not sensing any attempt at deception, I said, "Very well, I will meet this girl of yours if she is so important. Where is she?"

"There is a religious enclave where she has been sequestered at some distance north of here, near the village of Zahr-Rey. Do you know of it?" the High Cleric asked.

"I've heard of it, though my travels usually don't take me near there."

He reached into his robes, pulled out a small bag, and set it down on the table in front of me.

"I hope this will suffice as a down payment for your services," he said, casting a quick glance about the room.

I picked it up, noting its weight, and looked inside. It was all silver coin bearing the markings of the Eastlanders. I accepted it.

"It would be best if we travel at night then, and off the road...there will be less chance to be noticed," I suggested. The High Cleric began to fidget at that idea, so I asked, "What's wrong, can't see well at night, or are you not accustomed to walking?"

"No!" he said quickly. "Y-Yes," he stammered after a moment. "I am the High Cleric, I travel with my retinue, I ride..."

I cut him off with a sharp look, "Your 'retinue' is just going to have to stay home this trip--they would draw too much attention. The less people, the faster we can move and the fewer wagging tongues to deal with. Besides, I think the walk might do you some good."

I grinned at the thought of him trying to keep up with my loping strides. His skin paled slightly at the sight of my grin, which only served to deepen it into a smile.

I convinced my new companion into changing his clothing for something more suitable for traveling on foot. After arranging with Alnakh for keeping my trade items in a safe place until I could return for them, I obtained a few extra supplies for the trip. We left the village before the gates closed for the night. As soon as we were out of sight of the village, we quickly left the road. I made sure to conceal our tracks where we entered the brush so that anyone who tried to follow us would think we accepted a ride from a local farmer.

As I thought it would be, our journey was slow going for the first few days. This member of the priestly class was indeed unaccustomed to walking any distance, and his complaining was becoming annoying. I gave him some herbs to ease his soreness (and also to numb his tongue). In a quarter moon's time, we reached the small enclave, populated mostly by women of varying levels of status. A few males who were makers, scribes and clergy, as well as a small contingent of guards were also there, though the guards must stay outside the walls. Apparently, they are forbidden on pain of death to be in the company of the womenfolk inside. I always thought it strange and unnatural that they should divide themselves so.

Before arriving at the enclave, my companion changed back into his usual garb so that the guards will recognize him and we be allowed in. As we approached the gate, the guards looked upon us--and upon me in particular--in a strange mixture of astonishment and fear. One guard at the gate, apparently the ranking member of the watch, greeted the High Cleric by bowing low before him. My companion intoned some sort of blessing and the guard straightened himself. The High Cleric stated that he was making an unannounced visit and needed to speak to those in charge immediately. The guard issued a command to someone inside the compound who opened the smaller gate for people.

The High Cleric went through the gate ahead of me, though when I started to enter the guard stepped quickly in front of me and uttered, "Dogs are not allowed!"

I grabbed the offensive youth by the front of his tunic and lifted him with one hand to my eye level. I gave a low, throaty snarl close to his ear, and then caught a whiff of a particular scent.

In very serious tones I said, "Strange, I thought only dogs messed themselves when frightened."

Indeed, the guard had done just that. I held him out to the other guards and released him; the poor chap fell to the ground in a heap.

"Take this pup of yours back to his mother, he is need of a bath."

At that, I strode into the compound. The High Cleric had heard the commotion, but he was unable to see what had happened because the other guard was in the way. When I joined him, I mentioned what had happened, which caused him to frown. The High Cleric said something sharply to the guard on the inside of the gate; the guard quickly bobbed and went to speak to the other guards outside.

I always found the buildings made by the People of the Wastelands to be...unsettling, I suppose would be the word. There was just something not quite right to my forest-born sensibilities. Perhaps it was due to the straight walls, the rigid unnatural patterns, and the lack of anything resembling natural grace or beauty. Theirs was a harsh world, ruled by blood feuds between their clans that went on for generations, as well as strict obedience and cruel punishments for any who broke even the most minor infractions. It seemed that some trivial observance or another dictated every aspect of their miserable lives. I say that their lives are miserable because they showed little to no joy at simply being alive. Indeed, it seemed that some at least couldn't wait for Death to come to them, finding new and creative ways to seek their own destruction (while taking others with them whenever possible). The rest seemed resigned to wait with a fatalistic apathy for the end of the world. They were full of contradictions, though--their clerics preached doom and gloom, yet seemed to live a life of comparative luxury. Their singing (if you could call it such) was--depending on which of the two groups making the noise--either a monotonous drone or a painful wailing. Both groups forced others into servitude. One thing that was common to both groups was a fear of anything different. The origins of both groups lay in a common past, though they both were loath to admit it. They didn't like anything or anyone who didn't conform to their ways. I could only imagine just how much my own people upset their cart, as it were. We are totally different from the Wastelanders in many ways: our shape, size, physical and magical abilities, as well as how we live. The People of the Wastelands hold our kind in superstitious awe, often with a good deal of fear and loathing. Some go so far as to think we are some sort of "evil spirits" or some such nonsense. It is strange how they believe unnatural is "good" and natural is "evil".

The High Cleric and I walked for a ways through the compound and finally came to the building where the young girl was secluded. We went inside and the first thing that came to my attention was, as usual, the smell. The High Cleric didn't seem to notice, but I nearly sneezed from the strong scent of incense, perfume, and a concentration of their body odor. To our sensitive noses, these people have an unusually strong smell about them, no doubt the result of the heat they keep in their buildings and from their diet. Upon seeing me, the womenfolk fled like a flock of birds that had been startled. Although they were hiding, I could hear their breathing. Their whispered words tinged with fear and with a strange curiosity. I knew their veiled eyes were watching my every move.

A servant guided us to a side room off the main hall to wait as someone fetched the girl. The High Cleric took a comfortable position upon the cushions spread on the floor, while I stood near the window with my back against the wall. Shortly my ears perked to the quiet sound of multiple footsteps approaching. These were light steps, short, from two pairs of slippered feet. Most likely, they were the footsteps of their womenfolk. I relaxed slightly, though remained at the ready...just in case. They paused at the door and I could hear a female voice whisper a few words. There was a light knock on the door, the High Cleric spoke some word in his native tongue, and the door opened.

Two females entered the room, both with their heads lowered, their eyes not looking directly at either the High Cleric or myself. One was older, the other obviously younger, though their ages were difficult to tell through the coverings that they wore. The older woman closed the door behind them and they came to stand before the High Cleric, acting as if they were pups about to be scolded for some wrongdoing. He said some words in their native tongue, and then directed their attention to me. The eyes of both females went wide in shock; the older woman gave a strangled cry and looked as if she would collapse in a heap on the floor at any moment. The younger one clung to her elder, more in a measure of support and comfort than from fear, though she surly did not know what to make of my presence. I glanced at the High Cleric, then calmly moved from my position by the window and approached the two females. At that, they both sank to the floor, averting their eyes and holding their hands before their faces.

I slowly knelt before them and in a quiet voice asked, "Do you understand my words?"

There was a brief pause and the younger one nodded her head in the affirmative...the older one seemed too terrified to move.

Slowly, I held out my hands, palms up. "You have no need to fear me. Please, take hold of my hands...I am real flesh and blood, not a spirit. Go on, I won't bite," I said with a grin and a wink.

The younger of the two slowly let one hand go from holding her elder, and hesitantly reached out and touched her fingers to my open palm. She gasped and looked up at me.

"They are warm!" she whispered quietly.

I motioned to the older woman and bade her to hold my other hand. She refused at first, but I was patient, and used my empathic abilities to help calm her fears.

When she finally reached out and took hold of my hand, I said, "See? I am no demon, just different from your kind."

Her reaction was also of surprise, for before now they both had known only stories of my kind, and now they were able to see and feel one of us and know that we were real beings and not a myth.

Still holding their hands in mine, I slowly stood and bade them to rise. From what I knew of their people, members of the opposite sex did not openly touch one another except in certain cases. I'm sure I was breaking any number of their rules, though I doubt that no one would say much about it, given the circumstances. After introducing myself to the two females, I asked for their names. They quickly looked to the High Cleric, as it was not proper in their society for them to give their names to a strange male, let alone to one of another race. He hesitated a moment so I looked at him with an arched eyebrow. Thinking quickly, he nodded his head and said something to them that I didn't understand in their language.

The young female, speaking in the Common Tongue, said, "This is Sister Sarneh, and I am Dahmietra."

I gave the traditional Wastelander greeting which surprised both of them. After they responded I said, "Come, let us sit together, and talk," so we went to sit upon the cushions with the High Cleric.

For some while we sat, while the High Cleric and the older woman both spoke in their own tongue with the girl translating into the Common Tongue for me. I mostly kept silent, speaking only when I felt something needed clarification, listening not only to the words but also sensing the feelings behind them. The girl spoke little of her own words, though I could see that she had her own thoughts. She would look at me occasionally with her large green eyes, and I could see in them despair, sadness...and something else--a glimmer of desperate hope.

Eventually we grew hungry, so the High Cleric summoned servants to bring food and drink to us.

A somewhat terrified servant came hesitantly before me and stammered, "S-S-Sir, we do not know what your k-k-kind e-e-eats."

I looked amusedly at the servant and said with a mischievous grin, "Fresh meat would be preferable," licking my lips while looking intently at her.

The poor woman's eyes grew so wide that I thought they would pop out of their sockets and run away.

"However, whatever you have will be acceptable," I said jovially.

The servant bobbed and quickly left the room. I could hear feet running and a quiet "Aiieee!" trailing off across the hall. Snickering quietly to myself and shaking my head, I turned back to the others in the room. I saw that the High Cleric and the two females had frozen in position, looking at me with their eyes wide. It was so quiet that I thought I could hear the insects outside.

"I was only joking," I said. "Honest."

The girl interpreted my words and there seemed to be a sigh of relief as everyone went back to what they were doing. I caught the gaze of the girl and gave her a wink and a little grin. She seemed to understand and quickly lowered her face for a moment, then looked up with only her eyes and smiled. In time, the food and drink arrived, though the one servant was noticeably absent.

"I will have to make amends for frightening the poor woman so," I thought to myself with a mental smile.

As the evening wore on, I became restless. I cannot stay long inside these buildings of theirs, I need to breathe the night air and feel the ground beneath me. I stood up and stretched a bit, and announced that I needed some fresh air.

I looked towards the girl and asked, "Join me?"

The older woman, Sarneh, looked at me and then at the girl and then at the High Cleric.

When he said, "No woman of theirs may be left alone in the company of a man who is not her mate or immediate family," I became a bit upset.

I looked at him coldly for a moment and said, "First of all, I am not one of your males, and secondly you wish for me to be this girl's protector. If you do not think she can be safe when alone with me, then why am I even here?"

There was a stunned silence in the room. A few moments passed and still nobody spoke. I reached into my pouch and removed the small bag of coin I was given.

"If you have nothing more to say, then I return this and am done with you."

I tossed the bag at the feet of the High Cleric, and headed for the door.

"Wait!" said a small voice, "Please?"

I paused with my hand on the door's handle...the small voice pleaded with desperation that I could not ignore. The small voice was that of the girl, Dahmietra.

"I need you!"

I am one of The People of the Forests, a guardian, and protector of all things wild and free...yet, here is one who is not free, caged, and forced to live a life dictated by others, in a society that did not care about her wishes. She needs me, the antithesis of all that her people believed in, and for what? So that she can be used as a game piece to further the desires of those who only crave power over others? I let go of the door's handle and slowly walked back to the girl and knelt down in front of her.

I took her hand into my own and, looking deeply into her soft green eyes, I asked, "Why?"

Dahmietra leaned forward and spoke softly, "Come with me...to the garden."

She looked me straight into my eyes, and I saw only a sincere kindness and trust. I nodded my head once, slightly. As we rose, Dahmietra picked up the small bag of coin and slipped it back into my pouch. She looked up at me and smiled. Dahmietra formally requested allowance to leave the presence of the High Cleric and after a stern look from me, he granted it.

Dahmietra and I made our way outside to the garden in the center of the compound. The night sky was clear over the deserted garden . Even behind walls, these people did not willingly venture far outdoors, for they are a superstitious lot. It seemed that they feared the night for some reason or another. We stopped at a small pool of water and Dahmietra sat down on a nearby bench while I sat on the ground as was customary for my people. It also made me seem not quite so large to the girl, so perhaps she would be more relaxed. After a short period of quiet between us, I thought that I should get to know more about this person who I would be protecting, and more about what I would be protecting her from. I needed to know something of how her mind worked, what she felt was important, and what--if anything--she might be inclined to try if the chance should present itself.

"Tell me about yourself, Dahmietra, and of your family, your home, and what do you enjoy," I inquired.

She looked at me with surprise and uttered a small gasp, quickly lowering her eyes to the ground.

I looked straight at her and asked, "Why do you look away? Are my questions offensive to you?"

"No," she said after a moment, "it's just...no one has ever cared to ask such of me."

For the first time in my existence, I was struck dumb.

"No one?" I asked incredulously, when I could speak again after such a shock.

"No," she spoke quietly.

"Why? For someone who seems to have much concern made over, no one has ever asked of your needs?" I asked.

"No, I am just a girl, and nobody cares about me or what I want...it's all about what others perceive me to be, about what I represent to them," she said after a moment.

I could hear the pain in her young voice. I rose from my spot on the ground, went to the bench, sat down next to Dahmietra (secretly hoping it would hold my weight), and placed my large hand over hers. I gently lifted her chin with my other hand so she would meet my gaze. When she did look, I could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

"Dahmietra," I said as gently as my voice would allow in the Common Tongue, "I care."

It was her turn to be dumbfounded.

"But...if my own people don't care about what I want, your kind certainly should care even less about my people, let alone about me. After all, when our people first came here, the first thing they did was attack yours for no good reason--you had done nothing to them that I know of. All it says in our accounting of the time was that they found these lands to be inhabited by 'demon animals that walked upright' so they sought to 'cleanse the world of all such unholy beings'. It goes on to say that if our warriors managed to kill one of the 'demon animals', then the 'great holy warriors won a victorious battle', but if one of our warriors was killed while they were slaughtering whole villages, then it was considered a 'terrible massacre of our people by unholy forces'. The stories don't match up with the actual facts I've found digging through the ancient war records."

"You are correct in that," I said. "We were content to keep to ourselves and live within the borders of The Great Forest. The other races that lived in this area most likely would have gotten along with your people, if they had been given the chance. But your warriors attacked us, the Woodland People and also the Eastlanders solely because we are different from you. When they attacked us again, they brought fire and sought to burn us out...but we called to the skies and sang the Songs of Rain and of Storm. The skies heard our Songs, and answered. Strong winds battered your warriors, ice fell from the skies, and lightning pierced the clouds striking the ground, driving them back. Then the rains came--dousing the fires and washing away any who resisted. When Rain and Storm had done their part, we gave our thanks, and then chased your warriors back to their strongholds, howling with rage for what they had tried to do. So," I continued, "as you say it would seem that we have good reason not to care. Dahmietra, one thing about us that your kind doesn't understand, is that we care about all life. We are not monsters. True, we may fight with all of the ferocity of wild beasts when needed, and our understanding of things may give us abilities your kind cannot grasp, but we do care...I care."

For a long moment, she looked at me, as if she was seeing me for the first time.

"I understand," she said at last.

Hesitantly, she reached up, laid her hand on the side of my face, and held it there for a moment.

"You are different, and though I must admit that I was afraid of you when we first met, I am not now."

Dahmietra related to me where she was from, what she knew of her family history, and the things that she liked. Her experiences were minimal, given that she was forced to live a secluded life full of studies and little else since the age of five. One of the things Dahmietra wished to do was to be free from the life she had known and to see other places of our world. She knew enough of what was happening between the two main factions of her people to want to be rid of it all, yet her sense of duty kept her imprisoned with a feeling of despair and sadness over what she was expected to do. Others have dictated all of her short life, and she had only caught glimpses of life outside of her confines. The more I listened to her, the greater the pain I felt in my heart of being. I swore to protect this one, and my word is my bond, which cannot be broken, though I was beginning to question just what I should protect her from and how. Should I merely be only a bodyguard to protect her from physical harm until she stands before the Great Gathering of the two factions, or should I protect her from the harm to her spirit inflicted by her own culture? I thought on this while she talked, and decided that I should take her to our Lore Masters and ask for their advice in this matter. I calculated how long it would take to journey to The Great Forest from the enclave, and return in time for the Great Gathering. I figured that the only way possible to make it back in time would be to run while carrying her upon my back.

"Dahmietra, you said that you would like to see more of this world. I must confer with our Lore Masters on a subject, and we would have enough time, I think, to make a trip to my home within The Great Forest and still get you to this gathering you are to attend. Mind you, your people have never been allowed into The Great Forest...perhaps for you, an exception can be made. I would have to carry you in order to make the trip quickly. Do you feel up to it?"

She looked at me in astonishment at the words I just spoke.

Dahmietra thought for a moment, and then asked, "I would love to see this 'Great Forest' of yours," she said excitedly, "I have never been in any place where one could not see the horizon. But...are you sure that we can be back in time? How could you carry me for such a distance? I do not desire to be a burden."

"My people are used to covering great distances at speed, and we are far stronger than you can imagine. You will not be a burden to me, Dahmietra," I said with a grin. "First you will need to gather some things that you will need that can easily be carried, and then get some rest. We leave at first light."

With that, we got up and made our way back inside. When we got to the main hall, I asked her if she knew the servant that became frightened at my attempted humor.

"Yes," she said, "that was Jamella."

"Please take me to her, I must make amends for causing her distress before we leave," I requested.

Dahmietra instructed me to follow her to the servant's quarters, where upon entering we found the young woman named Jamella.

As soon as everyone saw me, they gasped and quickly backed away, covering their faces. Jamella looked up from what she was doing at the commotion and saw me approaching with Dahmietra. I thought the poor girl was going to fall over...she raised her hand to her face and looked as if I had come to make good on my dinner "suggestion". Dahmietra quickly went to her and spoke in their native language, telling why I had come and that I wished to make amends. At first poor Jamella did not believe what she had heard, but when I knelt down, lowered my head in a gesture of submission, and held my hand up with palm outward and fingers spread, her look changed to one of bewilderment.

"Please," I spoke softly (with Dahmietra interpreting), "I did not mean to frighten you earlier...I was only joking, and I meant no harm." I held the position for a few moments until Dahmietra could finish speaking in their tongue.

I slowly reached into my pouch and found the small object I was feeling for and withdrew it. I held my hand out to Jamella, turning my hand palm up and slowly opened my fingers. There, in the palm of my hand, was a blue star stone, about the size of one of their coins. I had traded for it on my trip into the mountains; it was just a small trinket to me. Both Jamella and Dahmietra gasped when they saw what I held in my hand. The others in the room, their curiosity overcoming their initial fear, drew closer and they, too, were amazed.

"For you," I said, motioning for her to take it.

Jamella looked at the stone, then to Dahmietra, then to me and back to the stone. She waved her hand in a motion of refusal and told me that she was not worthy of such a gift. When I gently took her hand, she started at my touch and looked at me with wide eyes. I placed the stone in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers around it, holding them closed with my other hand for a moment.

"You keep," I said gently, and Dahmietra interpreted.

I smiled and nodded my head and let go of Jamella's hand. She slowly opened her hand and looked down at the precious gem in wonder--she likely had never had more than the clothes on her back and a few simple possessions, let alone anything such as this.

"When this stone is touched by the light of the stars, it will shine as they do. Remember, the stars shine on us all...we are all one in their light. This stone will bring their light into your heart of being and chase away the darkness."

I looked to Dahmietra who was also looking at me in wonder. She told Jamella in their language what I had said about the stone.

I got up, went over to the window, and opened the shutters. The night sky was clear and cool; it was quiet except for the usual night sounds. I motioned to Jamella to come over to the window with me. When she did, I asked her to hold her hand out and open her fingers. Almost immediately, the stone flickered with an internal light, which then gradually became stronger and steadier. Jamella gasped, as her eyes grew wide with astonishment. Dahmietra and the others gathered around and saw that the stone was indeed glowing as if it were a star itself in Jamella's hand. I asked Jamella to close her eyes and relax, which Dahmietra interpreted. In a moment, the stone's light flared, then seemed to spread along Jamella's skin, traveling up her arm and spreading quickly across her body before sinking beneath the surface. She took a sudden sharp breath and then her face became calm. Her eyes opened wide, they began to swell with tears, and soon they were flowing unchecked down her cheeks. Slowly she turned her head and looked up at me. I smiled and nodded my head, knowing through my empathic ability what she was feeling. Slowly she sank to her knees and brought the stone closer to her face. When she closed her fingers about it, the light diminished and she gave a deep sigh and quietly wept...not from sadness, but from having a great weight that she had been carrying finally lifted from her heart of being. I knelt down with her and held her for a time until she had collected herself.

She looked up at me and said in her language, "I understand now. Thank you."

I smiled and nodded my head, not needing to hear Dahmietra's interpretation. I stood and lifted Jamella to her feet. The other servants in the room, as well as Dahmietra herself, were looking at me as if I had just performed a miracle.

"It's the stone's natural power to absorb and concentrate the light of the stars and then allow one's inner self to receive that light," I explained. "Each person will feel the effects of one of these stones in the way it is needed at the time it is used." Dahmietra interpreted my words to the group, and then to Jamella herself I said, "In time, and with practice, you will come to understand more."

"We should go Dahmietra. It's getting late and you should get some rest," I said softly.

In her own language I told Jamella goodnight, which surprised everyone (it's one of the phrases Alnakh had taught me), and we headed for the door. As Dahmietra and I left, I was aware of the other servants quickly gathering around Jamella and could hear their excited, though hushed voices. Dahmietra looked up at me and saw the smile I wore.

"What you gave Jamella, what you did for her, the words you said...," Dahmietra started to say.

"Was the right thing to do, at the right time, for the right person for the right reason," I added, still smiling. I returned her gaze for a moment and continued, "My kind have always had the knack of being exactly where we needed to be, exactly when we needed to be. We do not believe in coincidences, Dahmietra. There is a reason for everything. Our actions are like tossing a stone into a pool of still water, everything we do creates ripples in that pool which then spread outwards, touching everything else. Those who are closer feel the ripples strongest, while those farther away in place and time, less so...but do nonetheless. They bounce and reflect off everything else and eventually will come back to you, though the ripples caused by others in the pool may influence them themselves. We are all in the same pool, Dahmietra. All of us."

We stopped in front of the door to her room.

"And speaking of water, I believe I'll get some. You get some rest, Dahmietra, and be ready when I come for you," I said.

"Are you not going to rest, as well?" she asked.

I listened to the tone of her voice and heard her concern...and yet, there was something peculiar in that tone. I dismissed it for the moment, and replied,

"No need to worry about me, we 'magical beings' don't need much rest." I smiled and patted her on the shoulder, and told her "See you soon."

As I was walking away, Dahmietra spoke under her breath, but my keen ears caught her words before she shut the door to her room.

"I hope so."

I returned to the garden, sat down under a tree, and leaned against its trunk. I relaxed and let my mind wander while enjoying the feel of the ground beneath me. The cool, clean air filling my lungs was much better than the stifling, heavily scented air inside the building. The next several days were going to require a lot of determination. I wondered if I would have time to hunt along the way...like all of my people, I prefer my food fresh, not something that has been preserved for who knows how long. Some of the foods prepared by the people of the Wastelands are interesting--I actually have developed a taste for some of it--though I still prefer the tastes of home. "I have been gone too long," I said to myself. I was looking forward to going back...even if it was only for a short while. I made a vow to myself that when I returned home after all of this nonsense was over, I would work on some long overdue projects. I hoped that Alnakh hadn't managed to lose any of my things that I left in his safekeeping while dealing with this situation.

I wasn't expecting to get so involved with these people, especially not when I was on my way home. I suppose that there must have been a good reason for The Great Circle to bring the High Cleric and me together, which in turn led me to this place at this time to be with this girl. Although Dahmietra is practically of age among her people, to me she is--and always will be--still so very young. She seems likeable enough, for one who has not had much of a life. The poor girl has only known life in a cage, never able to run free or even to have any choice in what she wants to do. How can anyone truly live like that? She seems to be no more than one of their slaves--a horrible life, if life you could call it. If the Lore Masters will accept seeing this girl, they will understand what to do. And thinking of slaves, I thought of Nezcha...one way or another, I am going to see to it that she gets her freedom. I know that Alnakh only bought her because he knew of her family, as well as what happened to them. Alnakh, being one of the more progressive thinkers among the Wastelanders, didn't approve of the practice of slavery. He sought only to spare her the life of misery and mistreatment that so many slaves end up living. It will take time to save up the money to pay her bond price, and he has to work within the laws of their society. He and I both have been trying to find out what happened to her family. I hope that eventually she can reunite with her mother and siblings...if they still live. Well, nothing can be done about that issue at the moment. At least Nezcha was safe with Alnakh and he treated her as if she was a member of his own family. That was more than Dahmietra had--her parents willingly gave her up at the age of five turns of the seasons to the clerics, denying her of having a proper family life. I contented myself with the thought that somehow things will find a way to work out for both of them, and let my mind drift away for a time.

---

[1]se'fris-qat--"unbeliever"

[2]Ahnsa T'siru Kh'rol-Mahb--Ahnsa (peace) T'siru (upon you) Kh'rol (High Cleric of the) Mahb (sect)

[3]Ahnsa T'siru K'tek--Ahnsa (peace) T'siru (upon you) K'tek (also)