Fatestones 2nd Edition: Chapter 5

A going-away present for Barron! ^^

Chapter 5
Arione Windwalker

Talen and Yanara sat in a clearing not too far from Tirsu. As they had managed to bring him along with them, Backdraft lay curled up behind them both. Talen had been silent the whole time and Yanara was starting to get worried. Looking at him, she frowned. He hadn’t seemed the same ever since he had been banned. Quiet, solemn, solitary, he had changed into all these things. And Yanara didn’t like it.
“Talen, are you alright?” She asked from where she was, leaning against a tree. Talen showed no sign of movement; his eyes focused on the dirty ground.
“Are you hungry?” Still nothing. Yanara watched him with worried eyes, deeply concerned about his mental health. Moving over to his side, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “What they did to you was wrong.” She whispered to him, as if that would make him feel better.
“No, it wasn’t. It was their law, and I broke it. It’s my fault I ended up here, not theirs.” Talen said, standing and leaning against a nearby tree. “We should get some rest, Yanara, Scar’ll be here in the morning.”

In the morning, Yanara awoke to the sound of shouting. Sitting up from where she had fallen asleep, she yawned, oblivious to the scene around her. Talen was standing, yelling at the man he called Scar.
“It’s not my fault you were banned, Talen.” Scar said coolly, seeming to ignore Talen’s harsh tone.
“What are you talking about? I would never’ve been exiled if I hadn’t met you!” Talen shouted angrily, his hands balled into taut fists. Scar was silent for awhile before answering the maddened elf.
“I believe,” he said. “That when I first met you, you were sixteen. Already general of Tirsu, you were. And, you had already mastered the Dark Arts.” Scar said, his head up though his gaze was directed towards the ground. Talen stepped back, bowing his head. Neither of them seemed to notice that Yanara was awake.
“You did not learn the Dark Arts because of me. Nor did you learn them for the sake of protecting, Talen. You learned them because they intrigued you. Their power fascinated you.” Scar continued, holding his thoughtful position. Raising his gaze, the mysterious man watched Talen with sympathy. “I’m sorry you got banned, Talen, and I’m sorry you can never return to your home but that gives you no excuse to use people as scapegoats.” He said, placing a hand on Talen’s shoulder. But, the elf brushed it away, moving from his touch.
“I guess you would know, Scar. After what happened all those years ago.” He said coldly, before storming quietly off into the woods. Scar watched him go with his gray, stony eyes. Sighing, the man turned to Yanara.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that, Yanara. Talen can get a bit out of hand sometimes.” He said softly, stepping towards her. She moved back, a bit afraid of this stranger who seemed to hide so many secrets. Scar’s gaze softened, sensing her fear.
“Don’t worry, I will not hurt you.” He said calmly, taking another step closer.
“And Talen? How do you think he’ll handle what you said to him.” Yanara asked, letting the words slip before she knew what she was saying. Scar shrugged.
“He’ll walk it off, always does, always will. Trust me, I’ve known him for awhile.” Scar said casually, smiling at Yanara. And it was then, that a sudden fascination washed over her anger. Substituting the loathing with curiosity.
“How long?” She asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“How long have you known him?”
Scar sighed, shrugging. “Let’s see, Talen’s twenty-five now…and I met him when he was sixteen…so, about nine years, I’d say.” He said, sitting down across from Yanara. There was a silence between them before Scar spoke again. “You hungry?”
Yanara nodded, watching silently as Scar stood and dusted himself off. “I’ll have to find some firewood then. You stay here.” He said, turning and walking into the woods.

Talen walked in silence, stuffing all his and loathing into a small ball inside of him. The trees around him were rotten and old. Though none of this bothered him. Many times when he was a child, he had treaded these paths frantically trying to escape his hectic life. It was here that he had fled when his father had died. Here that he had run to when he had seen his sister ed. Here that he resorted in once he had gained news that his mother had been assassinated on a trip to Hartirvis.
Seeing a log not too far ahead, he started towards it. Sitting down on the rotten tree, he sighed. Running his hands down the log, he sighed. If only he was a child, he could run away from this, be forgiven for his mistakes. But, alas, he was no longer a youth. He was an heir to the throne of Tirsu, who had been exiled a day before.
Back in Tirsu people would probably say his name with disgust. Speaking his name with curses and threats. For he was a failure, an insult to any elf.
Footsteps came from behind him as he turned. An arrow whizzed past him, as he ducked to the ground. What was going on? More arrows whizzed past his head as he dared to look up again.
An elf was running in his direction, a southern elf by the looks of it. A group of men were chasing her, firing arrows and throwing daggers. Clenching his teeth, Talen stood.
“Get her! Get her!” The men yelled to him, their voices had touch of franticness. Talen paid no attention to their shouts. His eyes were only on the elf running his way. Grabbing her wrist as she passed, he pulled her to the side. Covering her mouth, he ducked into the shadows.
“Ssh, don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” He said softly as the men passed by. Once he was sure they were gone, he let her go. Sitting down on a rock, he looked at her. “So, you’re a southerner. That why they were chasing you?” He asked. She remained silent, just staring at Talen with mistrust and suspicion.
“Did you steal something, hurt anyone? What’d you do?” He asked, trying to get something out of her. Still nothing. Sighing, Talen stood and walked by her, only to be stopped by her voice.
“Why did you save me? I thought all northerners d us.” She asked, softly. Talen stopped, turning back to her.
“Now, that’s stereotyping, young miss.” He said, winking. Walking off again, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him.
“Wait! You still haven’t answered me! Please, sir, at least tell me your name!” She said pleadingly as she chased after him. Stopping, Talen turned and placed a finger on his lips.
“Sssh! Your chasers will hear you if you keep being noisy.” He said, smiling the whole time. She stayed quiet for a bit as he led her through the forest aimlessly. After awhile the southerner grew annoyed.
“Where are we going?” She asked. Talen shrugged smiling mischievously back at the elf.
“I don’t know. I guess we could stop here.” He said, sitting down on the dirt. He patted a spot next to him, signaling for her to sit next to him. She did so, sitting across from him.
“So, what is your name?” She asked once again, a bit annoyed with this stranger. After all this time, he still hadn’t spoken his name.
“Talen, yours?” He asked, getting ready for the look of shock that he received from most but found none.
“Arione.” She answered. Talen nodded, his gaze falling to her weapons. Smirking, he laughed.
“And what are you supposed to be, a mercenary? Assassin?” He asked, chuckling still as he did so. Arione looked at him with an air of annoyance.
“Peacemaker.” At this, Talen frowned. How could one with weapons try to make peace? No one would believe that they would want peace with so many weapons. It was senseless to carry them at all.
“How can you be a peacemaker with four weapons?” He asked, motioning to her waist where the weapons hung. She looked at her weapons, then turned back to him with a face that showed she had to be tolerating this.
“If I should run into trouble, I need something to defend myself with.” She said bluntly. From somewhere behind them a bird called for its mate, her sound echoing throughout the woods. As her call fell upon the trees, no sound answered her. Talen sighed in pity. Quickly, he turned back to Arione.
“She comes here every morning.” He said sorrowfully. “Only to never be answered.” Arione looked at him in befuddlement.
“Who?”
“The bird, didn’t you hear her call? Her mate was killed a year ago by a pack of wolves. She comes here every day to call for him.” He explained, gazing into the tree that the bird had been in. Arione followed his gaze.
“Doesn’t she know that he’s ?” She asked, her eyes searching the branches as she attempted to find the bird. Talen shrugged, turning his gaze back towards the ground.
“Sometimes I wonder that myself. Come on, let’s go.” He said, taking her arm as he stood. Forced to stand, Arione looked at him in surprise.
“Go where? You’re not taking me back to those men, are you?” She asked, a hint a fear in her voice. Talen shook his head.
“No, I’m taking you to meet a friend of mine.”

Yanara and Scar had been sitting in silence for an hour already. A fire flickered between them, the flames dancing with serpentine movements. Sighing, Yanara lay down, her brown hair spreading out behind her head. Hearing footsteps, she sat up. And there was Talen, leading another elf into the clearing. Standing, Yanara dusted herself off and made her way over to Talen. a quizzical look at the new elf, she looked questionigly at Talen.
Scar was up at once as soon as the other elf entered the clearing. “Who’s she, Talen?” He demanded to know. His face was less soft than Yanara’s by far. His stern gaze forcing Talen to look away.
“Her name’s Arione. I met her in the forest.” He answered once he could force himself to look into Scar’s eyes. Scar nodded grimly, a hand resting thoughtfully on his chin.
“And tell me, why is she a southerner?” He asked darkly, hand still on his chin in a thoughtful manner. Talen didn’t answer, his eyes falling to the ground. Dismissing Talen’s reaction, Scar whipped his piercing stare to the new elf. “What is your name?” He asked sharply. The elf came to attention, her jade gaze meeting Scar’s grey one.
“Arione Windwalker.” She said in reply.