Fiachra

  The further Fiachra circulated out from his home the less the moon’s light filtered through the trees. It was one of the ways he marked the distance, although these grounds were so familiar he didn’t need any markers, he just knew. Still, the pale white rays were pleasant and he enjoyed how the light played with the leaves on trees and underbrush along the forest floor as he passed each patch of light. He followed a route noted purely through mental mapping, intentionally avoiding well-worn animal trails to purposefully track anything irregular. It was a patrol he performed almost nightly.

  Every so often, he would look back without pausing and see the shadowed form of Gronw trailing behind. He rarely heard them as their steps were as silent and natural on the forest ground as Fiachra’s, but he could at least see his knee-height hobgoblin companion. Gronw kept close, almost touching distance, they didn’t possess the keen eyesight Fiachra had but their hearing surpassed even his and provided a nice counterbalance when hunting. They both carried on in silent comradery while travelling ever deeper into the black of the great forest.

  Beginning the circuit back to his house, a small flash of light caught his attention. It dimmed out of existence almost immediately, causing him to doubt he had seen anything at all. Nonetheless, he stopped. With suspicion creeping in the back of his mind he nocked an arrow on his bow and drew it, ready for any target. Gronw had a hand on his calf but removed it presumably to step out of the way. They waited on edge. A moment later burgeoning light caught his attention. It winked into existence like a firefly and grew into a pale gold orb lower to the ground. It was unlike anything he had seen naturally occur. Fiachra called out a warning in Fae, though if it were fae they would have announced themselves to him by now. No response came. He loosed an arrow straight at the orb’s center before I could grow to its apex and when the arrow touched it, the orb shattered into sparks dissipating into nothing.

  “Gah! Nngfh!” An unfamiliar cry, followed by a sharp, hiss-like inhale of breath, splintered the silence before quickly cutting off.

  Quiet darkness enveloped the area once more. His eyes adjusted quickly, making out a huddled mass of shadows near where the orb had been. He nocked another arrow and took a few steps forward, carefully keeping his distance.

  “State your purpose.” He declared in Elvish, breaking the still air once more. The shadowed mass shuffled ambiguously giving away nothing of what it was, if it was hostile, or if it even understood. “What business have you here?” He waited for a threat to rise with an arrow trained on the form.

  “I pose no threat. I only wish to pass through and forage,” a quiet but assured voice said. Their Elvish was fluid enough to cause Fiachra to pause.

  “Show yourself.”

  As an answer the gold orb took life again, starting as a speck and quickly filling out into a substantial ball the size of both his fists together. The shadows receded from the light and revealed near the orb a pale face of long smooth angles and wide slanted eyes the color of deep gold. Their hair was as pale as their skin with a marked difference in highlighting from the light, fine braids decorated the top of their head and silky plaits of white hair swept behind their ears as long and pointed as his own. It was clear they were elven and far removed from their home lands. The rest of the figure came to light as the orb’s illumination grew in intensity. They were crouched, kneeling on the ground with an open bag at their feet. He studied the bag for a moment and noted it was full of plants and fungi, but not any nondescript plants, they were species he cultivated specifically.

  “You’re stealing,” He stated simply, too stunned finding a strange elf in front of him to say much more.

  “Foraging,” the trespasser countered, eyeing the tip of Fiachra’s arrow.

  “I can’t allow you to leave my grounds with anything from it. Everything in this vicinity is under my jurisdiction and you have no leave to take anything, especially from my gardens.” He stood his ground watching the trespasser as closely as they watched him. He adjusted his aim of the bow to target the chest, a wider area and easier to hit should the other elf try to dodge.

  “My apologies, but I need these supplies and it’s vital that I return home with them.”

  “You could have asked.”

  “I wasn’t aware anyone lay claim to this area even down to the most meager of plants.”

  “Don’t be a fool or insolent, Wood Elves range far and we protect our charge of the forest closely.”

  “I am not from around this area, or close to it.”

  “That much is obvious,” he said, taking in the elf’s markedly white skin and how the only color seemed to come from the gold hues of the light. It was a striking highlight to the rich gold in their eyes.

  “It’s not much that I’m taking and everything I need is in abundance here, so it is not as though I am depleting any resources.” They pleaded their case with a level of calmness that was admirable when faced with an arrow in fatal range, a quality rarely seen outside of Wood Elves.

  “Then I will make you a deal, I will allow you to leave with your life and supplies if you trade something of useful value.”

  There was a moment of silence, the elf regarded him with burning intensity, crouched form stiff. “I have precious stones mined from the neighboring mountains.”

  “I have no need for them.”

  “What?” They rocked back, the drop in their jaw making their face more angular and sharp. “Gemstones are invaluable for trade with everyone’s lust for them, dwarves and humans especially.”

  “I have no dealings with the likes of them, or did you not notice how removed I live from any population?”

  “I did… that’s why I was foraging here.”

  “Try again.” He kept his face plain while the other elf scowled.

  “I haven’t brought anything else with me.”

  They locked eyes, staring at each other for a long time. After some thought Fiachra offered, “in that case, I will take a portion of what you are planning to make with my herbs.”

  “I would do that, but I need my arrangement at home.”

  “I have the basics for any magic workings in my home, what do you need?”

  “What I need is a full arcane lab for alchemy. I highly doubt your basics will cover my necessities and that you have any material not from this region.”

  “I have a few,” he said with a defensive edge to his tone despite himself. “We will work out something else then, to act as a temporary payment until you can return.”

  The exasperated look he received was more telling than if the elf had verbally groaned.

  “Come on, let’s go, this will be easier at my house.”

  Fiachra backed up a step and finally lowered his bow, his arms ached from holding their position through the whole exchange but he ignored the stiffness. The elf stood slowly and winced pausing hunched over for a moment before continuing. Fiachra feigned ignorance while he resituated himself to travel, sliding the arrow back into the quiver at his waist, bow slung over one shoulder, and hand resting lightly on the hilt of his dagger. The other elf stood fully now looking around.

  “My mount has run off,” the elf grimaced, somehow looking more dower while peering into the pitch dark around them.

  “I will have Gronw search for them, I assume your mount is as foreign to the area as you are.”

  “Naturally. Unless you have white and tan roan elk with pristine white antlers.”

  “So pale in appearance? No, but that sounds easy to find here.” He half-turned to acknowledge Gronw behind him hiding in the shadows. “Gronw, will you look for such a creature and lead it to the stable?”

  “His shoulders stand taller than I and each antler spans the length of my height.” The elf interjected quickly.

  “Of course I will help, Fiachra, if I need the assistance of sight I will ask the wildlife that is awake and hunting.” Gronw answered in native Fae. They materialized into the light and the other elf recoiled.

  He couldn’t quite understand why, Gronw was a rather cute hobgoblin, smaller and stockier than a typical hobgoblin like a lethal adornment you could carry with you. They had thick curly black hair that fluffed out to shoulder length and ears longer than his own that stuck out past their hair. Large black almond eyes and small soft features disguised their personality with a sweet bearing. The only reason he could give for such a reaction was that their dark green skin did not pair well with the pale gold light that was cast.

  “Regain your composure,” Fiachra warned, giving the elf a look when he did not soon recover. They gave no response, but given their propensity so far for quips he assumed that was for the best. Gronw disappeared into the trees as quickly as they had appeared. Fiachra took the momentum to get the two of them moving. “Are you planning to keep that light going the whole way back?”

  “I can’t find my way otherwise, and I will not cling to you blindly.”

  “Very well,” he sighed. “I don’t want that any more than you do, but I prefer the dark.”

  He led them to one of the many well-worn trails that crossed through the forest. The earth was better packed without brambles to trip over and it would be more direct to reach his house. However, it was slow going as he soon realized the other elf had a limp they were failing to fully disguise. He wasn’t certain yet if it was due to an old injury or the arrow he had loosed earlier, but he kept in mind that he would have to check in a better light.

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  They fell in step almost side by side as Fiachra didn’t want to chance letting the elf out of his sight, but had to lead the way. The orb of light followed them smoothly, maintaining a consistent place above their heads. The only thing that bothered him about it was how blind it made him to anything beyond its illuminating scope. If there was anything else lurking out here he would be hard-pressed to notice it first and that knowledge made him hyper-focused on every minute thing. As they walked, he couldn’t help but notice the dampened sound of footfall, softer than expected with the elf’s uneven steps. There was a height difference by half a head, which was an uncommon encounter. Primarily, he heard nothing but their breathing, quiet but present. He felt the bow as it tapped the back of his leg incessantly. It wasn’t until the elf spoke that the churning thoughts ceased.

  “I have thought it through and have come to the decision to attempt to use the setup that you have. If I can settle our debt without having to return all the better.” The elf didn’t look at him, only continued forward, focused.

  “I will grant you that,” he replied, feeling as though a rift were being mended with their conversation. “We are close, it’s not much longer now.”

  “Really? You can notice, even when absolutely nothing has changed in our surroundings?”

  “If you didn’t blind yourself with light we would be able to see the lights of my house by now.”

  Without word the light dimmed considerably and as promised the warm glow of lanterns shone between the trees. The other elf surged forward in a few long strides, breaking into the clearing that was Fiachra’s well-cultivated yard and stopping once there to take in the sight of his house. He followed the elf’s line of sight to the main house, a tree sizably larger than the surrounding ones whose roots created a clearing unfit for any tree to be near. Were it not for the lanterns, his home would be indistinguishable at night. They dotted the grounds, hanging on seemingly delicate posts that cast their light deepening shadows in corners out of reach and suggesting a sense of multiple pathways. From them the elegant buildings of his atelier, stable, and greenhouse were just visible, but it was the main house that drew focus. Windows rounded outward in long narrow multi-panes. They gleamed with light from inside and illuminated a fraction of intricate woodwork in and outside the house. With a newcomer in tow, he was able to view his home with a rare fresh sight and found it enchanting.

  Fiachra turned his attention away from watching the other elf marvel and circled behind them while they remained distracted. He scanned their legs searching for any indications of fresh injury until he caught sight of torn clothes along the thigh.

  “Ah, so my arrow did injure you.”

  “What are you doing? Hey, don’t touch it, it hurts enough.” The other elf stepped away quickly turning aside to obscure their thigh.

  “I need to get a better look, that wound should be treated so it heals properly. The poison won’t kill you, but it will cause unnecessary trouble.”

  “You tip your arrows in poison.” Their eyes narrowed, the sense of accusation was piercing. “I get the feeling I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “It’s not a fatal type of poison, at least not for an elf, but it does what I need it to for anything that comes along that should not be here.” Fiachra gestured for them to follow and turned toward a stone path that led to the atelier containing healing supplies. He took the lantern off its hook beside the door and brought it inside the workroom setting it and his bow down before casting another lantern to life to be able to work with ease. “I never did get your name and thinking of you as Unusual Trespasser is troublesome,” he prompted, hoping not to get pushback.

  “I prefer that not you not call me by such a name. I am Belenus Teu-Tel’Quessir, male Moon Elf of Caerwyn. I have yet to hear yours, mysterious forest dweller.” He half sat on a stool offered to him, leaving his injured thigh without weight.

  “Fiachra Or-Tel'Quessir, male Wood Elf of Scathwood.”

  He looked at Belenus fully for the first time in full light without a golden glow painting his appearance askew. He could see now that Belenus’s features were not simply white, his hair had silver highlights where the light touched it and his skin had blue-grey undertones. Although, his eyes were no less rich in multi-tones of gold that were a striking complement with the deep golden wraps of his clothes.

  Belenus was a stark contrast to features of his own from his dark brown hair and tawny skin. Even his clothes were darker, layers of green that looked black in dim light. Where he matched the night forest outside Belenus closer resembled the moon on a clear night.

  “Well, unless you dissent, I’ll begin before the night draws later.” Fiachra turned away to find a bottle of antidote and clean cloth, the potion would cut back on the healing work he would have to do. It took only a moment to gather and in that time he took a few deep breaths to clear his mind before turning back to Belenus.

  “Normally I take care of my own injuries.” Belenus’s tone was dismissive and his eyes travelled past Fiachra.

  “I have an antidote to the poison that will work for you, if you would prefer to fix this yourself I will leave you to it.” He held up the small glass bottle and Belenus returned eye contact then looked at the bottle wistfully.

  “I do prefer it, but I am rather worn out already to fix something you have caused.” Belenus said with a sigh.

  “You will have to do as I ask then, and remember, you were given a choice.”

  Belenus sat stoically before nodding with a scowl.

  “Does this sort of thing happen often?” Fiachra asked, accepting Belenus’s silent nod of consent.

  “Not like this.”

  Fiachra arched a brow in response, envisioning what kind of elf Belenus was to get himself in these kinds of situations. He knelt on the wooden floor to better study the wound, it had been untouched this whole time and as a result was difficult to assess. The deep gold fabric looked black across half his thigh with wraps drooping and torn in places. There was a long open gash shimmering blue from blood and it seemed possible muscle was cut.

  “I’m going to need to remove your clothes away from the area and clean it properly first.” He swept his fingers gently along the layers analyzing how he might best remove them.

  “Don’t even think about cutting my clothes.” Belenus said, sweeping his outer tunic aside and unclasping a piece at his hip undoing a series of interwoven strips that began around his waist and wrapped separately around his legs. It was all one piece and he removed it with ease and speed, revealing several ties which he undid upon reaching them, rolling a thin leather leg guard down. Fiachra was fascinated by the style construction and how many separate pieces he wore, he noted Belenus wore a second tunic underneath the first tucked into tight-fitting trousers. It looked to be the last layer.

  “You have a lot of layers for summer, it must have made for uncomfortable travel.”

  “It has been since I descended from the mountains. I’m used to higher altitudes and the layers are comfortable there.” Belenus paused fingering the ties of his trousers.

  “That layer too, it’s most in the way.” He was almost apologetic. He gave Belenus a moment of privacy now by prepping a bowl of water for cleaning. He set everything up within easy reach while Belenus worked his trousers gingerly away from the wound until it was free from obstruction. Belenus sat in the same manner as before, his tunics providing convenient coverage over his upper thighs. It was a casual countenance that was ruined by Belenus looking pointedly askance. “I’m certain you are aware, but this will hurt.”

  “I’m aware.” Belenus sounded resigned and understandably tense.

  It looked worse uncovered. He started by cleaning the skin around the gash, careful to avoid touching the wound directly. Once it was cleansed, he called forth his magic with a slow deep breath. His focus narrowed, intent on the damage and feeling out the extent of it with his mind. The muscle had been grazed but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The properties of the poison prevented him from healing it with his own reserves, so he was careful not to extend himself unnecessarily.

  He uncapped the bottle, ready to counteract the effects of the poison now that excess blood was cleared. “Ready,” he warned before setting a few drops into the exposed flesh. Belenus lurched sideways hissing in pain and gripped the table beside him for support, jaw visibly clenching.

  “Corellon,” Belenus swore, “Fiachra, ‘hurt’ was an understatement.” Belenus gasped still listing to the side. Fiachra sat back to wait a few more minutes for Belenus to collect himself before returning to finish the healing.

  “Almost finished at least and then you will be free to rest.” He helped Belenus back to his original position resting both hands along the outer reaches of the wound. Magic had been pooling in his fingertips and now flowed out with a nudge of his mind weaving into Belenus’s very essence. As it did so, the world around him fell away and all that remained was the work to physically undo the damage done. He scarcely breathed as each fiber and layer knit itself back together at his request, building upon each other until at last the top layer of skin reformed as though nothing had ever happened at all. With a sigh, he called the remaining magic back into himself and pulled away. “There.”

  “It’s as it should be,” Belenus said while smoothing a hand over his thigh.

  Fiachra nodded in acknowledgement and moved to put up his supplies. “It will be best to have a light dinner and rest before doing any work. I have no guest house, but I do have a spare bedroom you may use for the night.”

  “An unexpected gesture. I won’t soon turn it away, there’s no comparison to a room after sleeping outside.”

  “It’s only proper to offer, this circumstance is far from typical. Besides, you’ll make it up to me. I look forward to seeing you alchemical work.”

  His supplies were back in order quickly and Belenus was dressed once more within that short period, looking perfectly kempt minus the tear in clothes. He stepped outside and called for the faerie in charge of keeping the house in order. She materialized immediately at the atelier front step. She looked up to greet him, then dipped to the side to peer past his waist, watching Belenus with curiosity.

  “Brunaidh, will you grant Belenus the kindness of showing him to the spare bedroom and providing dinner?”

  Brunaidh nodded and spread the many folds of her skirt out in a gesture of politeness. “Would you like dinner as well?” She asked, her voice light like a small chime in a breeze.

  “In my room this time as it has been a long night. I appreciate your help.” She bestowed him with a smile, which he returned in kind. Turning to Belenus he said, “Brunaidh will show you where you need to go.”

  “Are you not coming?” Belenus stepped out into the night air, brows knitting and lips downcast in a small scowl as his head tipped slightly to the side. “You have kept me in sight all evening and now you leave.”

  “I have a few things I need to tend, go on, Brunaidh will keep you under control if need be.” Fiachra took possession of his bow sitting by the door before shutting it and going on his way. He wasn’t worried about either of them, Belenus was compliant and Brunaidh was capable enough to handle him if he wasn’t. He left them both without a second glance, heading away from his house and to the relatively secluded area of the stable.

  Long creature-like shadows cast along the ground alerting him to Gronw’s location before he reached the area. They stood post outside the large door with two saddlebags almost as tall as they were, he couldn’t help but smile at the comical similarity in height. With Gronw here and with saddlebags it could only mean they succeeded in bringing Belenus’s mount in, though it would have been worrying if Gronw was still out in such a stretch of time.

  “Was the mount difficult to bring in?”

  “Not terribly so, I called Phouka who did a majority of the cajoling and together we got it stabled in short order. I was starting to worry about you, you have been out longer than anticipated.”

  “Nothing to worry of dear friend, I took the time to heal the wound I had caused and that always takes a fair amount of time and energy. Did you find any more of his possessions besides these two bags?” He motioned to the saddlebags picking them both up by their handles. They were quite full and weighted, but it was easy enough to manage.

  “Nothing around that we found and everything on the elk was well secured until I removed it. Do you need anything else tonight?”

  “No, everything you have done has been more than enough for one night.”

  “Plenty for a few nights! I will take my leave then, until tomorrow.” Gronw inclined their head and flicked their hand in a kindly farewell before walking away into the forest depths.

  He took his leave as well and carried the bags into his home, counting the passage of time till dinner and soon after, rest. Weariness had set in but he forced himself to trudge up the stairs and pass by the spare room housing Belenus. He set the luggage down soundlessly and went to his bedroom without a word, Belenus would find them when he opened the door.

  When he stepped into his room at last, he felt he could finally relax for the first time all night. A glass of wine and plate of dried meats and roasted vegetables waited on his desk, still warm. He sank into the plush chair, wasting no time but eating just slow enough to be able to savor the rich seasoning.

  From his position at his desk he could see the grounds of his house settling for the night as the lanterns beyond his window were extinguished one by one until only the light in his room remained. Once food and drink were gone he doused the last lantern, inviting darkness in as he stripped off the layers of clothes of the day. The darkness was like a blanket of its own, making the night still and quiet, accentuating the comforts of his bed as he nestled deeply into it.

  Tomorrow promised to be interesting.