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Archives: Search for Azala

Chapter 4: Morning on the Grasslands

    Kitsa had taken the watch after Luria, who had been after Phaeton, who had been after Orion. The quarter-elf sat perched atop the large boulder that was at the edge of camp. She was wrapped in her dark red wool cloak, knees drawn to her chest. It was a chilly morning, and as dawn broke, there was a light fog settled over the ground.

    Kitsa looked down at the camp. Orion, Phaeton and Lanir had bedded down by the fire to stay warm, but Estas slept under the small pine next to Seri’s tent. Sairina’s tent was full, and sharing it with the three other women had been very uncomfortably cramped, but they were warm in there.

    As the sun rose higher, Kitsa hopped down from the rock and went to wake the men first. She crouched beside Orion first and gently poked his shoulder. “Orion, wake up, it’s morning.”

    He awoke by the first poke, but his eyes stayed closed until he recognized the voice of Kitsa. In the past, he knew of thieves that would take over an entire camp before anyone was awake, them simply woke them up before leaving to laugh in their faces. He learned the hard way to make sure you know what is going on before you move about freely.

    His eyes opened rather suddenly, then squinted. He was facing the rising sun and its sharp light stung at first. Orion gave a sigh before pushing himself up to a sitting position. He looked up at the last member of the watch. He had wanted to do most of it himself, but decided not to annoy the members of the group by trying to do everything himself.

    The quiet elf nodded to her, his eyes closed as he did. He considered it a sign of respect to close his eyes when he bowed his head to someone. He rose to his feet with a spring unlike most people who have just awakened. He glanced around at those still sleeping. “Allow our employers to rest,” he said as he slipped on his ornately-designed forest boots. “Gather the others from their rest and bid them quiet. We should prepare something that our employers can join us in eating. I will go searching for the proper fruits. Just let Miss Seri sleep. I am told that mothers-to-be require more rest than others...”

    With that said, Orion tossed his jacket on and snuck off into the plains, his eyes set on a grouping of bushes in the distance...

    Kitsa took heed of Orion’s instructions and watched him for a moment as he walked away. He was intriguing, and she hoped to learn more about him, yet he was so silent and withdrawn. The quarter-elf stood and moved over to Phaeton and gently prodded the wild man awake. “Phaeton, wake up, it is morning.”

    Phaeton’s blue eyes opened and he sat up and turned in the quarter elf’s direction. The young wild man’s hair was disheveled and bunched around his face and frame as he gave only a stretch and spoke, “Morning light to you, how fare the others and yourself?” The savage brushed his hair back, quickly tying it into a ponytail. He gathered his bedroll, folding it quickly and within moments he’d gathered his things, folded them and glanced around as he spoke again. “I’ll help break camp and hunt for something we might enjoy for breakfast...but as our employers do not eat meat, perhaps I’ll find some berries or tubers they might not mind eating.”

    As the savage conversed with Kitsa, Lanir rose quietly and followed suit as he folded his own bedroll and glanced around, his ears twitched ever so slightly as he heard someone stepping quietly through the camp. The half-elf glanced over and noted Orion moving with grace and silence as he always did. The half-elf ranger glanced at the tent where he’d seen Ez step to and wondered if she was awake yet, as he began waking a bit to get the morning chill out of his limbs.

    Kitsa put her finger to lips in a hushing gesture. “We must be quiet so miss Seri can sleep,” she told Phaeton and Lanir. “Orion is finding some fruits and berries.”

    The quarter elf moved on to Sairina’s tent and peeked in through the flap. Luria was sprawled near the tent flap length wise, while Sairina and Y’ezela slept on either side of the tent, next to the pole. “It is morning, time to wake up,” Kitsa said through the hole she peeked through, and nudged Luria in the side with her toe through the tent.

* * *

    Phaeton nodded and took Kitsa’s advice, the savage quietly gathered his things and then with an extreme grace and deftness stepped off into the woods to hunt for breakfast far enough away for those in camp who did eat meat. He had no wish to wake the pregnant elf, she needed her sleep just as badly as any human mother he guessed; perhaps even more.

    Lanir stayed in camp and likewise made as less noise as possible cleaning up the site as quietly as he could finally when he’d done as much as he could, those things that wouldn’t make noise or make as less of it as possible he sat down and waited as not everyone was up as of yet. They could always break more camp later after everyone rose.

* * *

    Sairina woke to Kitsa’s voice and saw her dark face peeking into the tent. The priestess gave a small stretch in the room she had and sat up. Y’ezela was waking too.

    Kitsa raised her finger to her lips. “We must be silent so miss Seri can rest,” she told them, then backed out of the tent and closed the flap.

    Sairina rose out of bed, clad in a dressing gown she had donned the night before. Her clothes and jewelry were neatly folded in the corner next to her pillow. She was not accustomed to traveling, so she went through her routines with as much normalcy as she could. Y’ezela had only taken off her outer clothing, jewelry and shoes, leaving her in the skirt and shirt she had worn.

* * *

    Mere minutes later, the silver wraith they called Orion was back, moving around with his serious face on. His outer jacket was balled up in front, containing berries of a few different varieties. Luck had found him a fruit bearing tree as well, containing a type of pear.

    Orion poured the contents of his gathering expedition onto a place and rummaged through them. On a smaller plate, he began intently organizing them. After a few minutes in front of the plate, he finally came up with a crude, but kind design. Two pears for eyes and red berries that formed a smile. He was no artist, but he hoped it would do. After last night, he decided it would be best to attempt a kind thing. He doubted that Miss Seri would eat two pears and all of the berries, so he assumed that she would share some with Sir Estas.

    Knowing well enough that the rest of the group was probably not as skilled as he in the work of silence, Orion decided to leave her breakfast by the tent flap. She would probably awaken soon, since her hearing was so elven. With all of the precision and sneaking ability he could muster, he moved to her tent and placed the grinning platter on the ground by the flap and carefully slid it under. As it did, the flap made a part of the smile dilapidated, but was still clearly a smile, albeit a strange-looking one.

    Swiftly, he returned to the center of the camp, looking for something else to do...

* * *

    Two half-elves and one human priestess stepped out of the tent and began a regiment of stretching. The small tent had left them with tight muscles and each of them felt the need to fix that.

    Y’ezela’s attention went straight to her companion and she crossed the campsite to meet Lanir. “Good morning!” she greeted him cheerfully and planted a kiss on his cheek.

    Sairina brought out a small wrapped package from her tent and sat down on a log near the fire. Daintily unwrapping the waxed paper, Sairina removed some strips of jerky, dried fruit and biscuits. “If anyone would like, I can give you some of my rations,” Sairina said to those around her. “I don’t see a need to go hunting...”

    The priestess looked around the campsite and did a headcount. Phaeton was missing. Hopefully he hadn’t gone hunting, cooking a meal would take time they could use on the road, not to mention it could offend Seri’s delicate senses further.

* * *

    The high elf was awoken by her bladder, as had been usual for the last few months. She awkwardly rose on hands and knees and crawled toward the entrance of her tent. As she opened the flap, she was surprised to see a plate of fruit that looked like a crude smiling face greeting her.

    Seri stared for a moment, then smiled. It was a sweet gesture, which she assumed was left by Luria. She didn’t even consider Orion as the gift-giver. However, she had to make a trip behind the boulder, so she moved the plate aside, climbed out of her tent and hurried behind the huge rock in the campsite.

    When she returned a few moments later, she picked up the plate, careful not to disturb the arrangement and brought it to the center of the campsite. “Thank you for the fruit,” she said to the group with a smile, though her attention drifted to Luria.

    Orion gave the high elf any hint that it was he who presented to gift to her. He didn’t care so much about appreciation, praise, or the like. Orion always preferred the quiet corners...

    Phaeton returned with a few berries and some roots he’d found, the savage had thought to catch some game but as they’d be traveling long and could eat a larger meal later, he decided the later. A few berries and trail biscuits would suit him just fine for now, and it was just as well as he returned others were up and already breaking camp.

    They would all be leaving fairly soon and that was fine by him, the savage gathered his pack and nodded to each person in turn. Giving the High Elves a bow as gracious and respectful as he could manage, he decided to say nothing as speech was uncalled for in his eyes. It was morning and the spirits had blessed him to see another day, a day that promised to be filled with life and light.

    Lanir practically blushed from face to neck and lower when Ez gave him a morning peck on the cheek, the ranger smiled and spoke in his soft gentle voice as he regarded her, “Did you sleep well? I think I slept quite well myself, especially after that divine song you sang last night. I’ve never heard anything so lovely.”

    When the savage returned, Lanir couldn’t help but nod in return to the human. He liked the young man as he was a strange one, but seemed to live closer to nature than most other humans he’d known. That fact alone made him likable and his open nature to treat all with respect and truth.

    “It was a little cramped, but warm,” Y’ezela replied to Lanir. She heard Sairina’s offer of food and turned to the priestess. She didn’t have many rations, and they tasted horrible, so she didn’t want to eat them unless it was necessary.

    “If you don’t need them...” Y’ezela said, eying the food Sairina laid out.

    “No, not really, we can get more in the next town,” the priestess replied, then offered Y’ezela two handfuls of biscuit, jerky and berries wrapped in waxed paper. “One for your friend too,” Sairina added.

    Y’ezela took the offering and bowed to Sairina, then brought the food back to her seat with Lanir.

    Seri took her platter and sat down on the same log as the two half-elves who had joined the night before. Estas had risen as Seri did and went to work taking down her tent before eating.

    The high elf was rather curious about the two half-elves. Lanir reminded her a bit of Azala, though his eyes were different. Y’ezela’s eyes were the same shade of green as Azala’s, but many elves had that particular color.

    “Where will you be going from here?” Seri spoke up.

    Y’ezela jumped slightly, then attempted to hide the jerky she had from Seri. “Oh...umm...we were going to Raiden,” the half-elf replied.

    She didn’t give Seri an easy way to continue the conversation, as she had been hoping, but she pried a little more on the subject. What she was most curious about was their elven heritage; such as the sort of relationships they had with their parents of both races. “What is in Raiden for you?” Seri continued.

    “Well, we’re trying to find my mother. She’s a merchant, and lately she’s been traveling a route between Raiden and the new villages in western Flaim,” Y’ezela explained. Seri was glad that she was opening up more and conversing. The half-elf popped a berry in her mouth, then continued. “Where are you going, if you don’t mind me asking? It’s just curious, because I’ve always heard that high elves don’t travel much—besides Deedlit—and I see you have a baby on the way.” Y’ezela’s eyes brightened suddenly. “Do you know Deedlit?”

    It seemed Seri had opened a floodgate. She had to pause to collect her thoughts. “Yes, I know Deedlit. We all know Deedlit,” the high elf replied with a smile, which quickly faded with a sigh. “Estas and I are looking for the father of my child. He left the forest before I knew I was pregnant. I’ve hired these mercenaries to help us track him.”

    “Wow, he left you?” Y’ezela asked in surprise, but she seemed to quickly realize how rude her question must have sounded. “Sorry, it’s just that Lanir and I were talking yesterday about our fathers. We both have human mothers, and our fathers left before they knew they were pregnant too. Not to offend you or anything...but are all elven men like that?”

    “Oh, no!” Seri replied, as if the speed of her response could get that concept out of Y’ezela’s mind as quickly as possible. “In fact, most elven couples stay together for life. I am...in quite a strange situation among my people. I suppose Azala is just a little too...unruly to observe such traditions,” Seri had just a hint of bitterness in her voice.

    Y’ezela didn’t respond immediately. Seri looked up to see the half-elf’s eyes focus over her shoulder, as if she were deep in thought. “What is it?” Seri asked.

    “Azala...that name sounds familiar...” Y’ezela murmured a response, obviously still searching through her memories.

    A thought came to Seri at that moment; what if Azala was this girl’s father? He was an elf stricken with wanderlust and he had close relations with humans. Seri didn’t want to think the man she loved had gone about impregnating human women, but it seemed very likely. No, she couldn’t be his daughter. That was too large of a coincidence. And what about Lanir? That boy looks quite a bit like Azala too, Seri suspiciously eyed the members of her camp. And Luria? Seri couldn’t see much of a resemblance to Azala in her mercenary, but Luria did have a lighter shade of green for her eyes.

    Seri addressed Luria in a comment that probably seemed completely random. “Luria, do you know your father? Was he an elf?”

    “Uh-huh!” Luria said, amazed that Seri was willing to talk to her. She seemed like a really nice person this morning. She hadn’t picked up on the fruit misunderstanding and if she had probably wouldn’t have believed it. “Yes ma’am! My father is a ranger, he taught me everything I know.” Then she scratched her head awkwardly. “Ah... he must not have taught me a lot huh?”

    Luria’s response was a bit of comfort, but the concern over Y’ezela and Lanir’s parentage wasn’t going to change until she knew the truth about them. “You are young yet, there is much for you to learn,” Seri replied to Luria.

    Orion ate in silence, sat in silence, and waited in silence. It took him no time to gather his things and less time to eat breakfast. The silver-haired ranger took no time to speak to others. People were not his forte and everyone knew it. Focus on the job was the quality he had. While Seri spoke with the others, he patiently awaited the time when they could move on...

    Lanir sat silently listening to the entire conversation as the high elf explained the particulars of her situation. The quiet demeanor of the half-elven ranger was soon to be broken this morning as he waited for the high elf to finish her statement, as it would’ve been the height of bad manners to interrupt her, but when he heard the name, he gasped audibly. Lanir couldn’t help it, she’d said Azala. The same name his mother told him of once, the name his father bore. It couldn’t be, not Azala, not the man his mother had described. By the way Lanir’s mother spoke of him, Azala was a noble and gentle soul, spirited and full of honor. At least, that was what he’d always believed. A wave of disbelief and shock came over him as the half-elf’s voice almost broke and he spoke with wide eyes, “Milady, you mean...he...he just left you? I mean...you mentioned...Azala...the the same name as the man whom...he bears the name of my...father. I...can’t believe...he’d never leave a woman with child...it’s just..it can’t be...” The young man chose his words carefully and spoke again. “I thought our kind, elves. That we were above that sort of thing. It’s just, I mean...in terms of responsibility and tradition. Especially...my father... How could he? Forgive me lady Seri, I need a few moments to compose myself, if this is the person I’ve been searching for...he’s not...not what I thought...”

    Lair excused himself for a moment and stepped into the quiet of the foliage surrounding the camp, trying to calm his nerves and come to grips with the realization that everything he’d believed, hoped and thought might not be so about his father. A tear came to the half-elf’s eyes and he clenched them shut, taking several breaths as a thousand thoughts raced through his head. Father...no. There has to be a reason...I need to know...and...she needs to know as well.

* * *

    Phaeton remained quiet and continued helping with the break up and clean up around camp as the elves talked of things he knew nothing about. The young man heard small snippets of their conversation and noted the younger ranger rise and step away for a moment. The young savage sensed a tension, something was amiss, but it was none of his business. Phaeton had learned long ago to leave other’s business to themselves; it made things less complicated.

* * *

    Something caught in Seri’s throat after Lanir spoke. Azala was his father, and it made her feel so angry and betrayed. Of course, Lanir was born long before she and Azala had their relationship, but the fact that Azala would so casually disregard the customs of their culture spoke volumes.

    The high elf couldn’t allow the mercenaries to see her cry, and it was taking all her strength to hold back the tears. She awkwardly rose and walked away from the campfire without saying a word, pausing as she passed by Estas to touch his arm. Since they traveled together, Estas had been there for her mood swings, and while he wasn’t the most emotionally available elf, he provided some comfort.

    The high elf frowned as the two half-elves left. They weren’t emotionally stable enough for this. If Azala was their father, and it seemed likely, it may be a better idea just to head back to the Forest of No Return. Azala was a wastrel, and judging by the testament from Lanir. It was highly doubtful that he would take responsibility. When Seri brushed his arm, he followed. Estas was starting to come of the opinion that this thing wouldn’t have a happy ending. He didn’t say anything, as there wasn’t anything to be said. Instead, he reassuringly patted her shoulder.

* * *

    Kitsa had retrieved her belongings from Sairina’s tent and helped the priestess take it down. She caught a little of the conversation between Seri and the two half-elf travelers. She had no place in it, but it made her feel uneasy.

    Kitsa had to take her mind off worrying about the high elf mother-to-be, and take attention off of her. “Hey! Let’s saddle the horses,” Kitsa suggested to the other mercenaries. With that said, she tossed her pack over her shoulder and went to the pair of trees the camp’s horses were tied to.

    Orion joined Kitsa, hand in pockets. The animals waited patiently while the two of them approached. Orion took to his mount first, giving her attention before ever touching the bindings. He pet her and fed her a bit of fruit. His mount was used to getting various fruits during travel, instead of the usual. Orion whispered soothing words to the mare as he undid her bindings and gathered the saddle for her.

    Phaeton finished gathering his things and had been busy packing up and cleaning camp. The young savage stepped over to the camp’s edge doing his best to avoid whatever drama was unfolding with the elves. Blue eyes followed Seri’s movements as she stepped away from the half-elf female and Phaeton experienced a momentary feeling of anguish for some reason. It was easy to see something was wrong, but to see beings so noble and beautiful as elves wrapped up in whatever was happening made him wonder. He’d hoped spirit folk, as his people called them, would’ve been free of such matters.

* * *

    Y’ezela watched as Lanir and Seri both left her side. It seemed both of them needed some comfort, and Lanir was the one who needed her most. The bard stood and hurried after the ranger.

    She found him behind a stand of bushes near the road and put her arm around his shoulders. “Lannie,” she said, cooing his childhood nickname. “Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

    Lanir heard Ez’s soft voice, and the sweet comforting tone of her voice calmed him, but it didn’t stop the pain or the tears that began to run down his cheeks. The ranger turned to face her slightly and spoke as his voice finally broke into an almost sob, “I...it’s...he’s all I dreamed about, Ez. My father, through all the times I was lonely...when we weren’t playing, or my mother cried at night. Sometimes I...imagined what he’d be like. Mother spoke so highly of him...and I fel...felt so proud...that my father would be like this. Gods...Ez, it’s why I became a ranger, to travel and meet others to find him. It...I’ve been such a damn fool...”

    The half-elf stopped a moment and more tears came, Lanir didn’t usually cry openly to anyone. But, Ez wasn’t just anyone, he was very close to her. Of all others he knew, she understood how it felt to be a product of two worlds. Full elves and full humans could never truly understand what it was like, to be half and not whole. To be different.

    “I...thought he’d be...a man of integrity, noble and kind...but...what he’s done to her. To mother, if she was nothing more than...a partner for a night, it would crush her heart. I can’t...won’t tell her this.” He couldn’t say anymore it hurt to much, the ranger gave his friend a slight hug as he spoke again. “Damn me for a fool. Now I’ve upset...lady Seri and she’s with child...”

    Y’ezela comforted Lanir, holding him close and rubbing her hand up and down his back. All his life, he had clung to the vision of a noble elf man who was his father. Someone like Estas probably was. Now Y’ezela worried that Azala could be her father as well. Certainly, that would be too much of a coincidence! Despite that, a weight had settled firmly in her stomach. She had to find her mother and speak to her.

    “Don’t blame yourself for upsetting lady Seri, it’s not your fault,” Y’ezela cooed. Surely, it was Azala’s fault for being irresponsible!

    Lanir nodded and hugged his childhood friend tightly. The half-elf’s soft eyes looked into the bard’s and he spoke, but his voice didn’t break this time. “I...this hurts Ez. Thank you for being here with me. I doubt I could get through it alone. At last not easily. We might as well help pack up, it’s going to be a long day. I think I’d best avoid lady Seri for awhile, till she’s had a chance to deal with her own feelings on the matter.” He was still hurting a great deal, but Ez was there and it made bearing such a burden all the easier. He hoped the other high elf would help Seri deal with her pain.

    Y’ezela gave Lanir a pat on the back, then reached up to brush some tears from his cheek. “Dry your face, and we’ll get ready to go,” the bard said. She was sure he didn’t want them to see his face streaked in tears.

    Lanir nodded and dried his face composing himself, taking a few calming breaths first then spoke in his usual calm and soft voice. “I’m alright now, I’ll be fine. Let’s head back, we can’t delay here all day.”

    The half-elf ranger returned to the camp with Ez. He was quiet as he helped his companion pack and gather her things. The ranger moved smoothly and did his best to avoid looking in the direction of Estas or lady Seri as he thought it best to avoid upsetting her any more than he had.

* * *

    Kitsa, Orion, Phaeton, and Luria saddled all the horses for the camp. The emotional turmoil involving the two new half-elves had little to do with them, but it made them all feel uncomfortable.

    “I suppose they won’t be coming with us?” Kitsa mused aloud. The horses were saddled, and she stood beside Soiff, the horse she and Orion shared, petting the mare’s silky gray neck. The quarter-elf was watching the half-elves and the high elves, waiting for the situation to be resolved.

    Sairina tied her folded tent and pack to her new saddle. Luria had given her her saddle, since it turned out that the side-saddle Sairina brought wasn’t the best choice for riding long distance. Sairina left her side-saddle sitting on one of the logs near the fire and hoped a merchant might find it and sell it. It was a fine saddle and would fetch a tidy sum of gold.

    To accommodate riding a regular saddle, Sairina had changed into a white silk dress that was split up both sides. The skirt she had worn the day before was too tight and would have to be hiked up far too high.

    “I’ll speak to Seri,” Sairina volunteered. After tending to the high elf mother-to-be the night before, she felt they had developed enough of a report for Sairina to comfort her.

    The priestess walked behind the boulder to find Seri trying to gather her composure again. The high elf’s deep green eyes were rimmed in red, but her expression showed that she was done crying. “Miss Seri, are you alright?” Sairina asked.

    Seri sighed before replying. “I’m fine, I just...” she paused. “The half-elf boy, he seems to have the same father of as my child,” Seri confided.

    Sairina was speechless for a moment. It was a very strange coincidence, but she didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry to hear that...” was all she could manage to say.

    “You have no reason to apologize,” the high elf retorted. She paused for a long moment, staring at the ground. “I wish to invite them to join us. Lanir has never met his father, and I’m afraid his concept of Azala has been shattered. He is seeking him as well, and I think Azala should meet his other child.”

    “Very well,” Sairina replied, bowing her head to Seri. She didn’t know how to comfort the high elf, but she had a feeling that just being there to confide in was good enough.

    “Follow me,” Seri said, then turned and walked out from behind the rock to meet Y’ezela and Lanir.

    Y’ezela and Lanir returned to find Seri and the priestess coming to them. Y’ezela broke away from Lanir to meet the women.

    “I’m sorry he upset you,” the bard said. “Lanir is seeking his father, and it would be easier for us to travel with you, but if you decline, we’ll leave on our own.”

    Seri shook her head, and responded. “You are welcome to travel with us. Lanir has every right to meet his father, and half-sister,” Seri smiled a little, placing her hand on her belly. “Besides, we could use his skills as a ranger.”

    Y’ezela was surprised to see Seri so welcoming after her breakdown. She was right, the high elf wasn’t upset with Lanir, but Azala. “Thank you!” Y’ezela grinned. The bard turned to Lanir, her skirt swirling around her legs. “Lannie, Seri says we can come with her!”

    Lanir smiled and a feeling of relief passed over him as Y’ezela spoke. The high elves wanted them to accompany them, which was fine with the half-elf ranger. He had questions for his father, Azala had a lot of explaining to do and the young half-elf was determined to get some answers. If for nothing else, he wanted to meet the man who’d fathered him.

    A respectful bow in Seri’s direction was the acknowledgment he gave and a smile. His expression was no longer one of sadness and melancholy, but replaced with one of relief and gratitude. The ranger stepped over and spoke softly with warmth and emotion, but profound respect. “Thank you, lady Seri. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better make ready for our departure.”

    He was nervous, here was a high elf. One of the grandest ladies of their kind—at least that was what he believed. Respect and decorum were something his mother drummed into him and he bowed courteously, gave Ez a smile and left to help with the breakup of camp.

    Once Lanir agreed to join them, Seri smiled, though it seemed sad. “Well, you will need to share horses with our mercenaries, so find someone to ride with,” the high elf informed Y’ezela, then turned to find her own horse.

* * *

    Orion sighed inwardly. More people. “On the contrary,” Orion replied to Kitsa, turning away to pack the last few things onto the saddle. He slid on the jacket normally wore and looked around. It wasn’t a bad day for travel. The elf brushed his hair away from his face. “We should get going,” he said to no one in particular.

    Phaeton stepped over to Orion and spoke briefly, “All seems ready, we should leave soon. The day seems well for travel and we’ll be able to cover more ground.” After finishing his work glancing around, and looking towards the sky. A few clouds had gathered but there seemed to be no indication of rains anytime soon and that meant they’d be able to travel a good bit.

* * *

    With Estas’s help, Seri was lifted onto the back of her small gray mare. While riding was considered dangerous for pregnant women, Ilavirin had a smooth gait and even temper, which was why Seri chose the mare.

    Sairina mounted her own horse, Aeru, though the small bay was definitely not big enough to carry another person. Kitsa and Orion shared a horse, so the options were left to Estas’s horse, Luria’s, or Phaeton’s.

    Y’ezela approached the savage warrior first. Her choice was determined by his gender and attractiveness. While Estas was beautiful, his silence and aloof behavior was intimidating, so she choose Phaeton. “Pardon me, sir, but may I ride with you?” the bard asked.

    The young savage looked at Y’ezela and nodded with a soft smile that was warm and inviting. Climbing his atop his horse, he held out a hand to pull the bard up to him gently. He spoke in voice that was kind and soothing, “I would be honored, fair one. I still muse over the wondrous gift of your song which you graced us with last night. I am called Phaeton Sky-Eyes.”

* * *

    Lanir didn’t know whether he was a bit jealous of the human or not, but smirked and looked about as they were ready to move out. What truly found joy to his heart was the fact that Seri was far better off than he surmised. Lanir couldn’t deny he was relieved and the ranger glanced over to notice Orion and gave the other elf a silent slight nod as he was ready to leave as well. There was just one problem; he didn’t have a horse and walking was not an option, nor was running.

    The half-elf glanced around and noted the young woman named Luria had no riders with her. Not to mention she was pretty. A slight shy smile crept across his face and Lanir stepped over to her and spoke in a warm voice. “Pardon me Miss, I was wondering could I ride with you? I would be ever so grateful.”

    Watching Phaeton take Y’ezela for a ride chapped something in Luria’s subconscious, though she hardly noticed it. Y’ezela was a better singer, and her lyrics were a lot better than her own. Now she was riding with her new best friend. But jealousy wasn’t in her nature, and she totally forgot it when Lanir began to speak to her. She was aware that Lanir had been somewhat upset earlier but hadn’t caught why. The idea that she could cheer him up really made her happy.

    “Sure thing!” Luria said, and nodded energetically. She mounted her horse bareback and extended her hand to help him up. “I ain’t got a saddle, but if you’re fine with that, then hop on!”

    Lanir smiled warmly and nodded taking the young woman’s hand and hoisting up onto the horse along with her. A slow blush spread across his face beneath his hood and he spoke trying to keep it from showing. “Thank you. I appreciate the kindness. I heard your song after Ez’s the other night. It was nice, you’ve talent.”

    He’d spoken with Lady Seri and a few others, but Lanir hadn’t had the chance to speak with Luria and figured as long as they rode together it wouldn’t hurt to get to know her while they traveled. She had a friendly, open and warm demeanor and he found it pleasant to be around her.

    Once the two half-elves were mounted, Seri and Estas took the lead out of the campsite, and their company fell in around them.

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