Prophecy's Twilight: The Dark Elf #2

["Cilia" <cilia@xxxxx>]

Title: The Dark Elf

Book: Prophecy's Twilight

Chapter: The Light

Author: Cilia

Beta: Cheryl

Summary: Poet is near death, Litni’s armor is no more, but all that will change now!

 

PROPHECY’S TWILIGHT: THE DARK ELF

 

Chapter 2: The Light

 

Litni sat at Poet’s, no Darien’s, bedside holding his hand and regularly replacing the wet cloth on his forehead, he was running a high fewer and suffering from tremendous blood loss. She was afraid for him and angry at him at the same time. She hoped he would live of course, but she was angry that he had once again deceived her, fooling her into thinking he was healing when he was just using a limited stasis spell to keep himself going until they reached his family. Where he had no doubt planned on taking his last breath.

            “Don’t you dare leave me Poet, you hear me,” she whispered. “I didn’t drag your sorry ass trough Shrill just to watch you die…”
            “He won’t die, not now at least,” came the soft voice belonging to Poet’s mother, Lydia, a small and fleshy woman of middle years, with a round friendly face and graying hair.

            “Him and death do seem to have a strange relationship,” Litni muttered.

            “I want to thank you…” Lydia said and started watering a fresh cloth. “…for turning him away from the darkness that held his heart.”
            “You aren’t what I expected… Shadows I mean,” Litni said and blushed slightly.

            “No we are simple folk for the most part, warriors at heart, but still simple. It’s that damned Heart and the clergy that bring forth the darkness in our young, like they did with my poor Darien,” she hissed and clutched the rag she had been winding.

            “Well the Heart will be history soon enough,” Litni said firmly. “We made the mistake of trying to storm the Tower, but I learned a lot that day,” Litni said and flexed her hand.

            “You are a brave one but how can you, a lone child of sixteen years hope to succeed where an army failed?” Lydia asked as she replaced the cloth on Poet’s forehead.
            “By thinking like a Drow,” Litni said. “And being like a shadow,” she added.

Lydia looked at the girl that had brought her son back to her, an elf, honorable and with hair like the sun, not a likely choice but a good one.

            “There is a room made up for you, why don’t you go sleep and I’ll stand watch?” she asked.

            “Do as the nice lady says,” Angel spoke into Litni’s mind. “I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

            “Alright… but could you send for me if… when he wakes?” Litni asked.

            “I will, also you can bring your armor to my eldest in the morning he’s crafty with the hammer and should be able to repair it,” Lydia said with a smile.

            “Thank you,” Litni said as she stood up smoothed down her borrowed brown dress. She looked at Poet for a moment then bent down, removed the cloth and kissed his forehead.

            “Get better,” she whispered.

Lydia smiled as she watched the young elf leave the room, it wasa gentle smile one that a mother gives when she thinks her son has done something right.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Litni found herself wandering the halls of Poet’s family mansion, thinking she should have asked for directions before leaving his room. She knew she should be bone tried from her trials over the last few days, but for some reason she didn’t feel it. The wounds ached and itched from the bandages and the salve that had been applied to them, but her mindwas clear and the parts of her body that should be aching were just slightly numb.

            “Wonder what else they put into me,” she muttered to herself as she rubbed the green gem that adorned her fencing glove. Then she heard it, the tell tale sound of iron being forged.

            “Its way past dawn,” she thought as she followed the sound out of the mansion and into the courtyard behind it. At the end of the courtyard was a small, but well stoked smithy. The man dressed in the traditional garb of Smiths the realm over was a beast of a man a first sight. Seven feet tall with a barrel chest, he wielded his hammer with a precision and delicacy that betrayed his massive size.

            “If you are here for your armor you’ll have to wait,” he said in a deep resounding voice without looking up from his work.

            “My… my armor?” Litni asked as if noticing for the first time that she wasn’t wearing it.

            “Yes your armor, a fine piece of craftsmanship, but I have never seen one so hacked,” the smith said and motioned to her armor that was mounted on a crosstree atthe back of the smithy.

            “I don’t think you can repair it,” Litni said as she looked up at her armor.

            “Oh don’t judge me so quickly,” the smith said with a grin.

            “No it is not that I doubt your skills, but it’s an enchanted armor,” Litni said

The smith looked up from his work and studied her and the armor. Then he laid his hammer down and walked over to the armor.

            “Never repaired an enchanted armor,” he said as he studied the armor. “But perhaps I can salvage it” he muttered as he started doing measurements on the tattered armor.

            “Salvage?” Litni asked.

            “Yes I’ll reuse the metal that is intact, maybe at some parts that can’t be saved. I’m no mage but it should hold some of its enchantments,” he explained.
Litni thought for a moment and then an idea emerged in her mind’s eye.

            “Can you make it black?” she asked. “All that gold attracts attention you know,” she added.

            “Easy,” the smith said with a grin. “Any other requests?” he asked

            “Let me tell you about the Drow smiths,” Litni said with a broad smile. Itwas time for a change.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Litni had a slight spring in her steps as she entered the kitchen of the mansion, she had finished giving Smith, and that was his name, instructions in Drow armor design and he had promised that it would be done within two days time. Now all she needed was Poet back on his feet and they could be on their way. Thinking about Poet made her heart ache, she loved him, or at least she thought she did. That night they had spent together, despite her harsh words, had been a dream. But it also meant that through Drow law she could not marry anybody except him. Elfin laws were more flexible, but her one night with Poet meant that all hopes for alliances with the other Drow house were out of the question.

 

She planted herself down at the kitchen table with a loaf of dark bread and a piece of cheese. After nibbling it a bit and thinking those deep thoughts only somebody in their younger years can think.

            “So you are the elf that brought the prodigal son back?” a voice asked.

Litni looked up and came face to face with a woman that could only be Poet’s sister, the same sharp features, eyes and dark flowing hair. She had about her a cold look and wasn’t much older than Litni herself.

            “That’s me,” Litni said. “Poet never mentioned a sister though,” she added giving Poet’s sister a pointed look that spoke volumes.

            “Poet likes to be secretive,” Poet’s sister said with a laugh and the cold image that she had been projecting faded.

            “I’m Light,” she said offering her hand across the table.     

            “Litni,” Litni said as she shook the offered hand. “What is it with your family and those nicknames anyway?” she asked.

            “Well our grandfather was a spy for the Clergy, he went by his codename most of the time, so I guess it became a tradition that each child has two names, on given at birth the other selected when they come of age,” Light answered.

            “Neat,” Litni said with a smile.

            “So do you have another name?” Light asked.

            “No but I do have another spirit,” Litni said with a smile.

            “Another spirit?” Light asked with raised eyebrows.

            “Sure, Angel wanna put on ashow for Poet’s sister?” Litni asked out loud and smiled as her companion spirit muttered something about show-offish elves. Then the kitchen lit up as Litni’s wing flared into life and Angel’s face could be seen overlapping hers.

            “Hello I’m Angel,” he said with a frown.

            “Hello Angel,” Light stammered.

            “Okay you can go now,” Litni said as the light died, but not before Angel had gotten in a few opinions of his own.

            “Wow!” Light muttered.

            “Pretty neat?” Litni asked with a grin.

            “Wow!” Light muttered again.

            “Okay earth to Light,” Litni said using the _expression_ she had heard Willow use more than once.

            “You are a Guardian,” Light muttered.

            “No, no,” Litni said and shook her head. “I’m just a normal elf with a mission, well a normal elf raised by a Drow and next in line to the seat of ruler of the third house, but aside from that and my friend Angel I’m just a normal little elf,” she said and then grabbed her mouth and giggled. “I didn’t just…”
            “Sure did,” Light said with a grin. “So just a little old insignificant elf?” she asked and then ducked as Litni threw pieces of cheese at her. Light being a woman raised never to back down took up the challenge and soon afterwards, when Lydia came looking for Litni she found her kitchen a mess and Litni and Light laughingand covered with flour. The shouts echoed throughout the house, causing Poet to stir in his bed and the Smith to stop and look up from his work on Litni’s new armor.

 

To be contiuned in Prophecy's Twilight: The Dark Elf #3