Aire Eird Pt. 01

Intro

Year of the Eagle, 2735

The smell of wildflowers and grasses was the first thing that came back to awareness. After that was the sound of bees and birds singing in joyous summer enchantment. Overstrung senses from the failed awakening left her gasping. Tendon and sinew were stretched taught as a bow. Back arched, trying to drag in air to starving lungs, trying to find the empathic calm that ruled all dark elves, not letting the hysteria of the backlash rend her limb from limb, Phanerio opened eyes darkened by internal stress.

I am worthless.

Rolling onto her side, eyes watering, sucking in a tight breath to stop her heaving her stomach and insides up, she regarded the Elder watching her from across the tree lined glade.

"So…you have failed this too then?"

Bastard! Not saying anything, pinning him with her hazel eyes, she watched him move towards her, like a panther stalking prey.

Defenceless, he swooped and grabbed her hunting tunic, sweat soaked from a backlash that even the most profound maje would succumb, shook her non too kindly.

"Eh? You're hollow! Barren! A failure to us! Not worth anything! Can not even handle the simplest of our ways," Black eyes bore into her soul, stripping her bare and finding her wanting. Throwing her harshly back down on the ground, it was all Phanerio could do, not to give him the satisfaction of a muffled groan.

Hazel eyes clashed with black obsidian. Whose will was stronger?

~~~

Chapter 1

Year of the Fallen, 2840

"Take these, go home and sleep it off. Come to me in three days and I will re-dress the wound," advised the healer.

Humphing, the sorry sight for a ranger shuffled out of her small shop.

Sighing, Phanerio walked over the clean floorboards and put her closed sign in the door. Enough! Raking reddened, small boned hands through her auburn hair, she crossed the shop to the back where her small kitchen was. Reaching up for a bottle, grappling as her stature was not the biggest, she found the dust covered bottle of aged Larient whiskey. Grabbing it also brought down a lot of debris that covered her in a wild smattering of white powder.

"Should really dust up there," she remarked to her empty shop. Shaking herself off, she opened the bottle and took a swig! It burned the whole way down, leaving a living knot of flame in her empty stomach. Taking another long swig, eyes watering from the burn, Phanerio sank onto her chair.

Will it ever end…?

Knocking at her back door woke her slumped and angry on her kitchen floor. Stifling a groan, throwing her arm over her eyes, she tried to block out the insistent hammering.

It only got worse!

Cursing from all five hells, she yanked open the door, only to be nearly bowled over by her one friend, "Give m'that!" she bellowed in her thick city accent.

Humphing, she relented the aged bottle to Alex, whose in turn grey eyes also started to stream, "Bloody 'ells Phan, what's in this?"

"Larient whiskey."

Eyes round, Alex spluttered, "Larient, Larient whiskey?" Taking another swig, voice rough, she continued. "Where did you purloin this? Phan you do know it's a jail sentence just to have a bottle, let alone a full bottle?" Respect shone in her grey eyes.

"Yup, bad day," sighing, retrieving the bottle for herself, she regarded her friend. Tall, willowy, light brown hair shot through with gold and slate grey eyes. She had a lithe fit body of a dancer (which she was among other things.) She caught men's attentions even dressed in rags!

An odd pair to be true…

It was after a wicked jamming session that Alex had come across what she thought was a child in the street. Only when she bent closer did she see the darts of lights ringing the iris's in golden wonder, proclaiming her a dark maje. Stunned, Alex didn't react quickly enough, and a black blade was at her neck, pressing hard with no tremor in the hands.

"Who are you," asked the maje.

Compelled to answer, having no choice with the velvet compulsion in the voice Alex answered, then rallied and bit back, "Like you're in a fit shape to ask!" Snatching the blade from limp fingers, she regarded the elf in front of her. A dark elf here? In Casslaua? Why?

Phanerio slumped, outstrung by a overtaxed mind and body, she missed Alex's tirade of language, "Well ho'wouda guessed? A ELF! Could fetch me a pretty price." Looking down at the maje, Alex felt compassion for her. She looked no older than her own 25 years, not that that fooled her, but it was the welts and scars running down her hands and wrists that brought the most pity.

"Hard luck 'en missy?" Gathering her up in her arms, she brought her back to her modest accommodation.

Several nights later, Phanerio regained awareness to the avid stare of her rescuer. Instantly going for her blades, finding them missing in action, she glared at her rescuer or captor.

Soft laughter came back from the corner, "Do ne worry lassy, I've got your blades." Alex approached the elf warily, as they were the supreme fighters in this wretched world and could maim you with a word.

"How are ye feelin?"

Finding her voice, Phanerio asked, "You have spared me, why?"

"Coz I reckon whoever yer running from, I'd be better off on your side than theirs," came the honest reply. Grey eyes met hazel. Phanerio's intuition showed her a woman who was lost, who had hardship Phanerio had no doubt. She could see the warrior in her eyes...

"What is your name?"

…and steadfast friends.

"Broken bones, scraped knuckles, usual shit really," replied a dissonant Phan. Looking at her friend, she saw the gleam in her eyes, suggesting she had news, good, bad or indifferent! "Out with it, I'm not in the mood."

"Ok, ok, I know 'en yer tetchy!" Gleaming slate eyes regarded her from across the table. "Apparently there's a convoy entering da city…from da north…said to be...Efliluer." Alex waited for her friend to explode…when none was forthcoming she opened her eyes a slit and looked at Phan, who had gone bone white. No, she had gone the colour of death itself.

"Efliluer," 'Dark warriors' came the only response in lyric language. Alex ducked her head, unable to see the torment and hatred in her friend's eyes.

Phan got up from the table with an effort. Shaking, stunned, she went over to her scrying stone, searched the world's magnetics until she sensed the one she wanted, and homed in carefully…

They were hard pushed. Lathered Efliluer mounts raced their charges south at break neck speed. These spelled horses were as fast as they were lethal. They were the mounts of Efliluer maje warriors, trained in the dark arts of warcraft and majic, among other things.

The moonlight did little to disguise the armour or the glint of majelight. Black cloaks billowed out behind the riders, while wolves raced along side. Dark warriors. Dark Elf Warriors the Efliluer, whose name was feared throughout the world, whose stories were told to children to stop unwanted behaviour. Efliluer….

Watching the racing band through the world's magnetics, she saw one of the riders haul their mount to a screeching halt. There he tilted his ebony head and looked directly at her! Panicking, caught, Phan threw up guards and recoiled back to her kitchen…

It was the cold floor that was the first thing that Phan became aware off. Lying prostrate, she looked at her cracked and lice bitten ceiling. Alex sensing Phan had returned, crouched down and placed a cool hand on her forehead, stalling the instinctive recoil, "You ok?"

Several attempts later, Phan got her dry throat and mouth to work, "Yeah, it'll get interesting here for a while; I'll have to be careful." Sighing, Phan pushed herself upright, while the wave of dizziness threatened to undo her again, she leaned hard against Alex. "Dark Warriors. Will be here within the next moon rise."

"But that two days away!" shocked Alex clamped her hand over her heart. "What in Creators name do they want here?"

"Dunno, ask your liege," responded a tired Phan. Sensing she had hurt her friend, she turned in her arms and said, "I know you share...things, and I am glad you have found someone. I just hope for both of your sakes, that we all survive the coming war." Ingrained compassion decreed that Phan help her friend, even though it cost her own heart. Looking into the slate eyes, she saw past her friend to a future time…

"Phan! Phan! PHAN!" rough shaking dragged her back. "I'm ok. I'm back," she was getting tired of passing out on the floor.

"Wha you see?"

"Nothing important," stomach rebelling, freezing, needing solitude, she said, "Why don't you call back tomorrow? I'll be better then. You know I need to re-align after a forecast."

Looking at Alex, seeing a storm brewing, she forestalled her, "Please, I'll talk to your tomorrow. Ok?"

Her friend wasn't happy, but relented. When she had gone, Phan lay down on her bed and prayed for sleep. It did not come…

~~~

Several nights later, Phan took a walk down the wharf. The ruby sun rinsed everything in reds and oranges, turning boats to floating firestorms, and people into walking fire. The water was stained red, as red as blood in war. Dodging deck hands from a wharfed deep water vessel, Phan made her way down the jetty to a red tinged black boat.

"Ere, there be Captin' abroad," she shouted to the ship.

"Who asks?" was bellowed back.

"It's me you idiots, unless you want your wood to rot, and your food to fester I say lower the plank!"

"Alright, alright, keep your panties on!"

Stifling a smile, Phan waited patiently for the plank to be lowered. Once on deck, she stared levelly at the captain.

"What in Creator name happened?" The poor captain of Deathcut was in a bad shape. He had a torn ankle, scraped legs, and festered wounds on his arms and as for the cut to his head…

"Ran into a tad of bad trouble, fuckin pirates!" Captain Jool replied. A hulk of a man, 4 inches past 6 foot, and as broad, he was a menace to look at and just as quick in mind and in sword.

"You are a pirate!" Phan replied contrite.

"Don't go spreading the word. People think I'm honourable," as a rat! He sniffed and scuffed his boot on the planking.

"Humph, well ok, anyone else needs help? You know it's dangerous for me to use my powers what with the Dark Brotherhood holed up in the castle." Both spared a glance to the castle that formed the eastern side of the bay. Built by maje, it seemed to rest out of the cliff face like a dagger. Arcane majic was built into its foundations, making it impenetrable and no conquerers delight. Balador has stood for a thousand years and is the capital city of Lucciara, a wealthy kingdom, with the king seat in the capital. Both turned away from the fortress, both for different reasons.

"Yeah, the lads got a right hammering too." Disgusted Captain Jool regarded his crew with a hard stare. "Next time you louts will do as I say!" His fair crew just stared back...

Covering her mouth with her hand, lest poor Captain see her smile, Phan cleared her throat and started the task of healing normally Without her powers…

~~~

Later she was dragged screaming from her nightmare, into a living hell…

"Did you think you could run from us?" a black velvet voice asked. "To run away and leave without consent? To leave the safe haven of our forests in a fool's errand?" Black obsidian eyes bore into Phan's soul and left it open and raw.

She had too much to lose. Looking around, the smell of the dungeon was acidic with urea and vomit. Not her own. She would not break before them. Never. Lifting her head to pin her captors, her brothers, her sisters she looked at all of them equally. Measuring. Waiting. The dungeon was dark, only the light from a wall scone at the far door illuminated a patch. Not that it was needed. Fouled straw matted the floor and around the room, the feeble lamp light reflected a master inquisitor's domain.

What have you gone and got yourself into!

Glancing around again, she regarded her captors with a steady if not ironic stare. Almost missed the still figure in the furthermost corner. Folded as if in the wall itself, he was the shadow. He was death. She knew he was watching her, his gaze raising gooseflesh along her arms and raising hairs on her neck...he was terrifying

"You would do well to answer," replied a male voice like poured darkness. As he moved in front of her, Phan seen that he was wearing Efliluer battle garb, so simplistic it hazed the mind for want of weaponry. Tall, dark haired, black eyed he was her uncle by marriage, and no friend. He had broke her on her last failed awakening.

Phan stared back. Not a flicker of emotion or stress showed on her fine cut features. Inside she was scrambling, screaming for a way out.

"You ran away, unsanctioned; you will be tried by our laws and disposed of."

As the circle of Efliluer closed ranks around her, the figure in the corner moved his stance. This was what they were looking for. The traitor. Tall, broad shouldered, he tried to fathom why she had run so long ago. He knew she had failed on all the Eflil tests – maje, song, wisdom, seeing, warrior, healer. As an Eflil, you have a particular talent or calling. Some are healers, some are dancers and only some become warriors and only a handful of these become the Efliluer. She did not have any, so why did he see her scrying as they raced here?

Lungs burning and mind reeling, Phan watched the one in the crook from the corner of her eye. He was the one to be afraid of. Not the ring of 5 surrounding her, ready to dissect her being into slivers of frozen ice. I'll have only one chance…

The Efliluer began to sing. A haunting song that broke the heart and raised the spirit from flesh. Goosebumps grazed her flesh as her safeguards recoiled from the songs power. They then started to weave sigils in the air, to draw out the living power of the body, leaving her shaking and sweating with the onslaught. The lines of her aura lit like lightening in the dark chamber. They then traced her life line firing it red in the darkness, and sung to bend it to their will.

Still the one in the corner did not move.

Strung out, the pain became a friend as the gruelling majic whipped about her body. Phan raised her head and looked to the one who hated her. Gathering the last of her strength she pinned him with her hazel stare. Calling on the elements of air, fire, wind and water as quickly as she could before arousing suspicion, she created a vortex in her mind.

As the Efliluer's song increased in power and swelled like an over ripe strawberry, Phan used this swelling power to aid her own…

Too late he realised what she had done, as he moved at preternatural speed, drawing his darkened blade to kill her, he was dragged at the same instant he reached her into the open vortex and was hurled beyond the dark dungeon into oblivion…

Chapter 2

It was the heat that woke her. The blistering, sunstroke heat that burned like a thousand needles with every breath.

She was free! Wow! It Worked!

Rolling onto her side, Phan looked into the far distance. The heat haze muddied the atmosphere and created illusions that were not there. The baked earth burnt nearly as bad as the sun. Levering herself upright slowly as not to be overcome by nausea from such an extreme transition, she sat quietly and stared into the distance. How did I do it? Remembering back to the awful feeling of the Efliluer tracing of her life line and the subsequent pulling apart of her whole being, she remembered activating the elements, calling for their help and laying down her life for them. They had answered! When the swelling power of the Efliluer crested all moments, the vortex of earth majic opened and hurled Phan through space and time…to land on the desert of Kula. Frowning, sweating, tired, Phan remembered the flash of a dark blade as she was taken by forces no other could meddle with.

Looking around again, she saw a dark bundle, once thought mirage, in the middle distance. Oh dear Creator NO! Standing up slowly as her rubbery legs threatened to go from under her at any instant, she made her way cautiously to the dark shape. If he had come through with her, he would be unconscious. Such a transition on an un-trained mind could damage beyond repair. Even his.

Shirt and trousers sticking like glue to her body, Phan reached the bundle and gingerly rolled him over on his back – and cried out in shock, jumping back only to land on her arse! Holy Creator NO! Stunned she sat looking at the one who all feared, the most powerful Efliluer, one whose name was to bring his bane upon you was lying sprawled at her bewildered feet. And she knew him!

*'Get his weapons'* her inner voice screamed! "Yeah like that'll stop him." Getting up cautiously, with bruised buns, Phan moved slowly like a bee keeper to the still figure. Trying to be as light as possible, she removed his weapons. Stiletto blades from his wrists, throwing knives from belt, and boots, poison darts, hunting knife. Still, she was trying not to notice the hard muscle and bone underneath her questing hands…where was the sword? He was going to attack her with it as she transferred…

Looking around the parched earth, she quartered the area, and quartered again…still not finding that fucking sword, Phan raked now blistered hands through her unruly hair, Lifting it stuck off her neck, she rolled it up and did another full circle. Suddenly, she saw a glint in the dirt, 30 yards from him! Gott'cha! Nearly running over to it, hand extended - just within reach it was then she was bowled over by what seemed to be an oak falling down on her!

She was already fighting by the time they landed. Got a good punch into his sternum, then he banged her across the head viscously. Tasting blood, rolling, fighting for her life, Phan remembered the one knife they didn't take from her…taking another hard hit to the kidneys, Phan got the knife, rolled and got it to his throat, while he locked strong hands around hers. Using his weight he pinned her to the ground.

"STOP!" he ground out. She was a hellcat, wasn't going to go down easy. Staring into her hazel eyes, he knew her! Tightening his grip, only increased the pressure of the blade on his neck. The air around them thickened like molten honey. A trickle of blood winded it way down his neck…

Staring up into the ice blue eyes that burned through her soul, Phan knew he was going to kill her. His whole body vibrated with leashed power. Sigils traced the air in white fire as he gathered the forces to unmake her Rage took her over… the previously burning heat of the dessert was now a living inferno...

"For the love of Creation, let her go or we will all die!" somebody yelled nearby.

The air became thicker, hotter, golden lights lit her eyes as the air responded to her summons -

"Now! Now dammit or she will kill us all!"

He looked up, and stared. He was looking at a small Light Elf thought long gone from this world.

"Who are you?"

The air became like a furnace…golden lights surrounded Phanerio…

"It does not matter, SHE WILL KILL US!"

Looking down at the trapped Eflil beneath him, he saw the resolve to die and take him in her shining golden depths, rather than go back. Dragging in a breath, he rolled off, only to be looking at a sword points surrounding his prone body.