heroes or villains? OPEN

[elvishbanana]

Reena stuck out a hand and touched the silk. It was a lovely periwinkle color, smooth and bright in shade as well as weave. Reena had worked with silk only once before, and her attempts had been clumsy at best. Was it time to try again? Looking at the tag on the bolt, she winced. No, not time to try again. Still. The silk was beautiful.

She was closer to the Citadel gates than she had been yesterday. She’d gone to bed the past three nights, fully intending to boldly enter the gates and offer her services as a healer in exchange for information. But somehow the gates and the mystery behind them were too intimidating for her to charge through. Her courage and determination just melted when she saw the dragons. Sometimes with Riders, sometimes without. Always large, always scary. Always unpredictable. Reena looked up at the gates again, wishing there was a way she could meet a Rider outside of the gates. Anything would be better than just storming through, proclaiming her skills. Even meeting a human.

Even meeting a man.

But the Riders were intimidating, and unpredictable. All of Alagaesia knew they were wild. And they said they were champions of justice, but what was the truth? Were they good men and women, wishing to make the world a better place? Or were they just troublemakers, trying to grab power over a land shattered by war and divided by racial hate? Reena knew next to nothing about the mysterious order, and until she knew more, how could she join their ranks, albeit as a mere healer? It was unfathomable. Reena imagined a conversation with one of them, a faceless, nameless person. In her imagination, the person was an elf with impeccable manners. Strong, wise, powerful.
Who are you, exactly? And where do you get your power from? she thought. Do you serve the people, or are they supposed to serve you? Do you seek peace, or war? And are you serious always, or are you like ordinary people, full of laughter? Do you venture out into the markets often, or do you stay behind the gates and let your servants do the shopping? Do you even have servants? She was bursting with questions, but there was no one to ask. Even the citizens of Ilirea didn’t seem to know much about the city’s famous inhabitants.

Reena moved on down the row of stalls, casting her eye over fabrics and threads especially, but not immune to the charms of a few strands of brightly colored glass beads. They clinked together, making a wonderful sound. Market was a distraction, nothing more. Her pile of coins was too small to be able to afford anything she saw, though she wished she could buy much. She doubted she would last another fortnight in Ilirea, if she couldn’t find a room or pay with the Riders. And she wouldn’t last another three days, if she gave into temptation and bought the silk. She kept returning to it, seeing designs for gowns and scarves and shirts in her mind’s eye. Her slender fingers moved over it again and again, loving the smooth feel. “Hey, are you going to buy, or just grope my fabric?” snapped the man behind the counter. Reena blushed and withdrew a hand. The man called her a nasty name, and her blood chilled. “You elves, always thinking you’re better than us,” he jeered. “Well, you wouldn’t be too much better than any human girl when you’re on your back, would you?”
Reena turned to ice. Had she a knife, she would have run him through. “This is exactly why I hate humans,” she hissed at him.
The man called her the name again and seized her wrist...

[Angmor]

Contrary to popular opinion, the life of a librarian was just as much work as any other profession or trade. After all, it involved thousands of hours of filing and organizing, which, with the tens of thousands of texts contained in the Grand Library, was often a monstrous task. Vaoris had often commented on the irony of all the record-keeping involved in record-keeping. And then sometimes, every once and a while, a fallible archivist would make a mistake, which would then mean that a promised text would no longer be where it was supposed to be. And sometimes those mistakes would be compounded over the period of years, resulting in an entire section of elven family genealogies seemingly disappearing overnight. It was at these times when the life of an archivist grew truly, genuinely exciting.
That, as described, was exactly what had happened, and Vaoris had spent the last week personally heading an exhaustive search for the missing documents.

It had been tedious, tiring work. Worse compounded by the fact, as so often happened, that the mistake had only been discovered when a minor elven noble had journeyed all the way from Silthrim demanding to see them. But it was just the sort of challenge that Vaoris relished. Along with all the other apprentices, he had scoured the Grand Library's sub-basements, ledger in one hand, erisdar lantern in the other, systematically checking literally miles of shelves. Most of his peers had dismayed that they would ever found it, but he had attacked the problem with his usual determination for acquiring knowledge. After all, how was a scholar to provide knowledge for future generations if he could not keep track of his own records? After a six and a half day search, his determination was rewarded, and he discovered the offending scrolls stacked neatly in the corner of sub-basement three, on a shelf that the ledger said should have housed a collection of ancient cookbooks. The hero of the hour, Master Vanir had rewarded him with a week off, to be spent however he wished.

And so here he was, strolling through the open streets of Ilirea, humming a jovial tune to himself as he relished the gentle breeze. He realized that he had forgotten just how pleasant the outdoors could be in the early summer. Normally, he would not have appreciated the downtime too much. The Grand Library was, after all, his favorite place in the world, so why would he want to spend a few days away from it? But today, he realized that he had long needed a break. After spending so long in a world of grays and browns, the array of colors that could be seen in the city, whether in the streaming banners or the ornamental clothing was almost breathtaking to behold. Even the bright sunlight was mesmerizing, even if it almost made his eyes water after so long in a dim basement with nothing but a lantern for illumination.
Yes. He decided. A week of rest will be quite welcome. First I'll complete some errands, and then go to the park to read.
With this plan firmly in mind, he struck out into the city with a spring in his step.

Before long, he reached the market. After stopping at a baker's shop for something to eat while he read, he made his way through the congested avenue, weaving his way around mixed crowds of shoppers and between the tightly-packed stalls. There were far more of these than he remembered from his last visit. That probably meant that a traveling caravan had come to sell their wares. Vaoris mostly ignored these. He had one very special stall in mind, one that he had not visited in far too long.
After several moments, he reached the spot; a large wooden booth, sheltered by a heavy canvas. Behind the counter sat the hunched form of an elf, obviously quite ancient in years. As he approached, she rose to greet him, smiling grandly.
"Vaoris! How very good to see you. I was afraid you would no longer come to see me. Had been absorbed into the shelves of that library of yours." While the woman's face was lined with the sorrow and strain of uncounted years, the traces of former beauty could still be seen, and her eyes were bright and clear. Vaoris smiled.
"They very nearly did, Tionra. They very nearly did. I have just come from a very dark and harrowing adventure, from which I barely escaped."
Wise as she was, Tionra didn't buy a word of it. "Truly? Misplaced some of their precious tomes again, have they?"
Vaoris chuckled. "Yes, they did. But I found it, and now I've been rewarded with time to myself."
The woman nodded sagely. "Ah, I see. In that case, you'll be wanting this." Reaching beneath the counter, she produced a small cloth bag, sealed at the top with string. His smile broadening, Vaoris brought it to his nose and sniffed appreciatively. After mastering so many arts, Tionra now spent her days growing and blending what Vaoris believed to be the best tea in Alagaesia. He tucked the packet of leaves into his satchel, then drew out his purse to extract the money owed.
"Wonderful as ever. I was starting to worry that I would run out before I had a chance to come back to you."
"The stars forbid such a tragedy occur." The woman shot back. She sighed. "It is one of the few joys left for me these days."
"Well, know that the tea also brings me joy." Vaoris answered. It was another reason for him to keep returning here. After living for so many ages, she still took the time to banter with a young, scrawny little elf like him, making him feel important. He loved her for that, and hoped that he could somehow brighten her days.

"So how have you been faring in my absence?" He asked, setting the needed coin on the counter.
"Quite well, thank you. The growing has been good. Although, I could do without all these new humans about."
"New humans? You mean the caravan?"
She nodded. "Yes. Came through the gates two days ago. I don't like the signs in the eyes of many of them. Especially that one." she pointed further down the street. Vaoris looked, frowning. On the other side of the avenue, several rows down stood the stall of what looked to be a textile merchant. He could see what his friend meant by her comment. The man behind the booth was glaring hatefully, his mouth twisted into a sneer.
Vaoris nodded. “You’re right. I don’t like the look of him either…”
He trailed of as he realized quite suddenly what the man was glaring hatefully at. A young woman stood before his stall, gazing at a bolt of blue silk with an expression of wistful joy on her face. She stroked the fabric lovingly, apparently oblivious to the venom being directed her way. Even as Vaoris watched, the man spoke something that he couldn’t hear, although he couldn’t imagine it was anything complimentary. Beside him, Tionra inhaled sharply.
“He intends violence. I can see it in his eyes.”
Vaoris felt his stomach drop, his good mood vanishing even as he denied it was true. This was Ilirea, after all. There had to be someone nearby to put a stop to it. Even as he thought it, he realized that there was not. The street had almost emptied during his conversation, and the confrontation he was witnessing was quiet enough that no one would notice.
“Go.” Tionra hissed. “Go now.”
He wavered, paralyzed by fear. He was an apprentice scholar, and not a very impressive one at that. What could he possibly do? But if he did not help, something terrible would happen.
Before he knew what he was doing, he had set off across the street, hastening forward at a jog. Even as he watched, the man surged forward and seized the young woman’s wrist, drawing his other hand back for a strike…

Having no notion of what else to do, Vaoris took a deep breath and called out.
“Excuse me!”
Both the man and the girl looked to him in bewilderment as he slowed to a stop in front of the stall. “Excuse me sir, but I couldn’t help but notice.” He continued, hoping that he looked far braver than he felt. “You seem to have a very strange way of doing business. Is seizing potential customers some new custom to which I am unfamiliar?”

[/blockquote]

[elvishbanana]

Reena hissed at him. She had never learned combat magic, only simple healing spells and weaving magic. So when it came to protecting herself, she had to rely on more mundane defenses. Unfortunately for her, however, her knife was broken, shattered beyond all hope of using it again. Reena heartily wished she had broken it on the uncouth human in front of her instead of the Urgal.

”How dare you touch me!” she spat, yanking her arm away. The man’s grip was tight, however, and he drew back his other hand, ready to slap her. Reena’s eyes widened in fear she couldn’t hide.

”Excuse me!”

Reena swirled around to face the owner of the voice. An elf strode toward them. He was short by elven standards, still taller than Reena herself, but not by much. His skin was even fairer than hers, making him look almost sickly, especially in comparison to the humans. His face had the usual elven angles, and his hair was black and braided down his back. His clothes were simple, but well-made, and Reena couldn’t resist giving them the once-over. The clothes were well enough, but it was the robe that caught and held her attention. It was a beautiful shade of warm gray that could have passed for green or brown, a color that suited the elf. It was long and loose, doing little to conceal his scrawny frame. A curious symbol was embroidered on his shoulder, a golden star with six points, covered by a silver scroll. But it was his eyes that really caught and held her attention. They reminded her slightly of her own light eyes, ghost eyes that came in silver instead of blue.

”Excuse me sir, but I couldn’t help but notice. You seem to have a very strange way of doing business. Is seizing potential customers some new custom to which I am unfamiliar?”

Reena was impressed. She would have pegged her rescuer as a bookworm who spent all his days indoors. But there was a sharp look to his eye, a warning that would have made Reena think twice, had it been directed at her. She looked him up and down for steel but saw nothing, and wondered if he could be a hand fighter. The silk merchant pointed a grubby finger at the elf. “You stay back, elf; this is none of your affair.”
Reena yanked her hand from his grasp, but didn’t run. She wanted, possibly for the first time, to take revenge. She wanted satisfaction from the foul human, where she had never desired conflict before in her life. ”You,” she said, shaking with fury, ”are the most pathetic excuse for life I have ever met.”
Turning to the elf, she shot him a quizzical glance. ”He is, however, right. This wasn’t your affair- not that I mind the help, mind you. Why would you come to my aid?” she asked in the ancient language.
“Damn elves, always speaking in that tongue. Why not speak plain, eh?”
Reena ignored him for the moment, her attention fixed on the elf. She wondered for a moment why he would bother helping her- and then it hit her.

”Shur’tugal?” she whispered, pale eyes wide with shock. ”Are you Argetlam?”
“Argetlam?” asked the human loudly. “What’s that? Some Elvish mumbo-jumbo?”
Reena looked at the elf with new eyes, wondering. If he was truly a Rider, his dragon couldn’t be far behind- perhaps that was why he didn’t carry steel. Reena swallowed. Now wasn’t the time, of course, but here was the person who could answer her questions, a person who she could talk to.

[Angmor]

Vaoris still wasn't sure what he was supposed to do at this moment. He supposed a hero of legend might have broken the man's grip, or knocked him flat on his back, or something of that nature. They always seemed to know instinctively how they should respond, as if they had been trained for it. But if there was a universal manual on how to save damsels in distress, he himself had never read it. He would just have to improvise with what he did know.
Which, pertaining to the current situation, wasn't much.

It was about another second before the merchant recovered from his shock, pointing his finger as if it was a weapon. "Stay back, elf; this is none of your affair."
Well, something of a success. He thought to himself, trying to keep the growing fear off his face. At least he's not going to hit her anymore.
As the man spoke, his potential victim robbed him of further chances, ripping her arm from his grasp with an angry snarl.
"You, are the most pathetic excuse for life I have ever met." Vaoris was somewhat taken aback by the depth of the anger in her voice, without any trace of fear that he could detect. Just as quickly she seemed to calm, turning to him with a questioning look. The eyes struck him first. They were a rare shade of blue, appearing almost white in the sunlight, peering intently at him as if divining his thoughts. She was obviously an elf like him, probably about his age. Maybe a bit older, he estimated. Among the elves, for whom beauty was a standard if not a requirement, she would be considered very plain with her diminutive height, flaxen hair and thin figure. While unblemished, her face was equally plain, holding none of the sharp and haughty beauty of her race. Even so, Vaoris was certain that she had never used magic to alter herself as so many elves did. That spoke of a lack of vanity that was a rare virtue. Despite this, her clothing clearly testified to care about her appearance. A practical outfit of white and blue, it appeared tailored perfectly to fit her, resulting in elegance despite simplicity. The cut and fit however was different from the usual Ilirean style, he noted. A foreigner perhaps, or did she perhaps make her own clothes? That would explain how she had come to be here at the stall of an angry merchant in the first place.
All in all, he had to conclude, she was rather pretty.
"He is, however, right." She said suddenly, snapping him out of his examination. "This wasn't your affair- not that I mind the help, mind you." She added hurriedly. He noticed that her voice too was quite beautiful, when it wasn't constricted by anger."Why would you come to my aid?"

Vaoris frowned, not quite tracking the scope of the question. Why would he come? Why wouldn't he come? Was it not common courtesy for one person to help another?
"Damn elves." The merchant muttered before Vaoris could begin framing a reply. "Always speaking in that tongue. Why not speak plain, eh?"
It took Vaoris a moment to realize that the woman had reverted to the Ancient Language. Being a scholar, he was so well versed in either tongue that he could think and process either one without transition. Vaoris ignored the merchant, still unable to come up with an answer to the woman's question. Just as he was opening his mouth to say the first thing that came to mind however, her pale eyes widened in seeming revelation, staring at him as if he had sprouted wings right in front of her. "Shur'tugal?" She whispered. "Are you Argetlam?"

Vaoris felt his heart skip.
Me? A Rider?
This woman could not have been from around here. It was the only way he could possibly be mistaken for a Rider. How could he be? For the second time, he found that he had no idea what to say. Typically, the distasteful man filled the silence as if it hurt him.
"Argetlam? What's that? Some elvish mumbo-jumbo?"
Vaoris was presented with two options; he could lay rest to the woman's assumptions immediately, or he could deal with the man and his hate. He settled on the latter. Something told him that the woman's questions would take some time to sort out. Besides, his scholarly curiosity had been officially piqued, and he wished to know more of this mysterious foreigner. The middle of the street would not be the place to discover.
He turned back to the merchant, reverting to the common tongue.
"Look friend, you've done no harm yet. Just leave this woman alone, and allow us to go our separate ways in peace."

In hindsight, he would conclude that this had been the wrong thing to say, or at least while standing so close to the counter. He was clued in immediately as the man surged over and seized him by a handful of his tunic, pulling him close enough for Vaoris to feel the hot breath against his face.
"Peace?" The man snarled. "What would a snot-nosed pipsqueak like you know of peace? I lost both my sons in the war. My family line ended because they went off and fought with those elves in that cursed forest. And all while you lot sat in your shiny city and did nothing!"
Vaoris was paralyzed with fear, helpless to free himself as the man's glare burned into him. He no longer needed Tionra's wisdom to read the intention of violence in the merchant's eyes, just waiting for the slightest hint of an excuse. Vaoris he had only one chance.
"And will behaving this way bring your sons back?" He said before he could think. "Will it avenge their deaths? Will it make them proud?"

He hadn't consciously considered anything before speaking. It had simply popped out. The man continued to glare, his grip unwavering. Finally, just as Vaoris was sure he was about to receive a blow to the face, the merchant let go of his tunic and drew back, seeming to shrink.
"Go." He hissed. "Get away from here, both of you. Get out of my sight, and Nyx damn you all."
Vaoris tried to hide his sigh of relief as he turned back to the woman, straightening his clothing.
"Come," He said, reverting back to the Ancient Language. "He's not worth your anger. Let's leave this poor man alone."

[/blockquote]

[elvishbanana]

Reena wondered briefly if he was really as steely as he looked. The elf’s eyes rested on her for a moment, though her words seemed to snap him out of the odd trance. Her question puzzled him- she saw the confused frown cross his face and wondered if she had said something amiss. He looked as though he were about to answer when the merchant spoke again. Reena rolled her eyes, irritated. ”Why don’t you do us all a favor and keep your dirty human mouth shut?” she snapped, turning the full force of her ‘ghost eyes’ on him. The man closed his mouth abruptly. Reena looked back to her rescuer. He was still staring at her when she asked him if he was a Rider. The question seemed to startle him- was his power supposed to be that obvious? Again the fool human opened his mouth and interrupted them, though this time Reena chose to ignore him as well. The elf looked to the merchant at last.

”Look, friend, you’ve done no harm yet. Just leave this woman alone, and allow us to go our separate ways in peace.”

Reena blinked, a little disappointed. Was her rescuer really going to let the human off with that? If it had been up to Reena herself, she would have given him more of a scare. Well. If the elf wasn’t going to demand satisfaction, she would have to do it herself. The elf and the man were fixated on one another- her hand snaked out to the table, unnoticed by either one. As she busied herself with taking revenge, she watched the two men carefully. So far, it looked as though the elf’s words were working.

Or not.

The merchant’s hand shot out again, seizing the elf by the tunic. ”Peace? What would a snot-nosed pipsqueak like you know of peace? I lost both of my sons in the war. My family line ended because they went off and fought with those elves in that cursed forest. And all the while you lot sat in your shiny city and did nothing!”

The elf looked terrified, and Reena knew she would have to do something. The elf, however, beat her to the punch, surprising her yet again. ”And will behaving this way bring your sons back? Will it avenge their deaths? Will it make them proud?”

Reena waited with bated breath for the merchant to respond. For a moment it looked as though the mysterious elf was in big trouble. And then, his voice cracking with emotion, the human spoke one last time. ”Go. Get away from here, both of you. Get out of my sight, and Nyx damn you all.”
He released the elf, who seemed very relieved for a Rider who was able to conquer armies with a single word. The elf straightened his clothes and spoke to her in the Ancient Language.

”Come. He’s not worth your anger. Let’s leave this poor man alone.”

Reena consented to be led away. She fell into step with the pale elf, glancing at him sideways. ”Did you know how he would react?” she asked quietly. ”Or were you as terrified as you looked?” she said with a small smile. ”I am Arasinya Ranastaldo, called Reena,” she told him. Before her courage failed her, she swallowed and said what she had been planning to say for three days. ”I came to Ilirea hoping to make a trade- my services as healer, weaver, and seamstress in exchange for information. Do you think that might be possible?”
Before he responded, Reena looked back to make sure the merchant’s stall was out of sight. As soon as she was sure she’d gotten away with it, she grinned and pulled her pack around. Reena opened the flap and pulled out a fold of periwinkle silk. ”My satisfaction,” she said to the elf. ”A fair trade, don’t you think?” Before the merchant had grabbed the elf, she’d taken the whole bolt, and three others besides. That, more than the elf’s stern words and the human’s brusque dismissal, was her revenge.

[Angmor]

Vaoris had to breathe another sigh of relief as the woman visibly consented to leave. For several seconds, he thought that she would disregard him and exact some kind of vengeance against the merchant. While true, his behavior was beyond contemptible, there were other means of receiving justice.
Well, thank the stars that’s over… He thought as he led the woman further down the street. Now he could turn his attention to her and her myriad of questions and misunderstandings. But not, it seemed, before she acquired a few more.
”Did you know how he would react?” she asked quietly, her pale lips holding a trace of a smile, ”Or were you as terrified as you looked?”
Vaoris winced inwardly. So, her ghostly eyes had caught that. She did not seem to miss much, and that did not really surprise him. How many legends spoke of unusual eyes with strange properties? He supposed now that he would have to put her idea of him being a Rider to rest. A shame, really. Despite himself, he enjoyed the comparison, as childish as it was. But there was no point in pretending to be something he so emphatically was not. All she would have to do would be to meet a real Rider, and any illusion he created would come crashing down. Before he could begin framing the speech however, his newfound companion beat him to it.
”I am Arasinya Ranastaldo, called Reena,” She said, her face and tone suddenly nervous and uncertain. ”I came to Ilirea hoping to make a trade- my services as healer, weaver, and seamstress in exchange for information. Do you think that might be possible?” The words tumbled out in a rush, almost as if she had been damming them back for some time. Which, he realized suddenly, she probably had. Vaoris struggled to wrap his understanding around it, but found that he could not. Her service for information? What information? And why would she need to exchange anything for something so readily available as knowledge? She can’t know of the Grand Library…

As he was thinking distractedly over the problem, his feet carried him mechanically down the street and around a corner. It was then that the woman’s manner changed again, becoming somewhat furtive as she glanced over her shoulder. As she did, she unslung one strap of her pack and undid the top, pulling forth a length of blue cloth that he found strangely familiar…
”My satisfaction,” she said, sounding distinctly satisfied with herself. ”A fair trade, don’t you think?”
After a moment, Vaoris suddenly remembered exactly what color of cloth had gotten her into trouble with the merchant in the first place. At last, he understood, and the revelation sent a flood of objection through him.
“No.” He said, not even in answer to her question. “No, it is not a fair trade. It is a crime.” Even as he spoke it, he realized just how dangerous this was.
By the stars, what if someone saw her? He glanced around, half expecting a pair of Wards following behind, or a dragon to swoop out of the sky. The woman stared at him, not comprehending.
“Look, I’m not sure where you’re from, Arasinya Ranastaldo, but stealing is a criminal offense here in Ilirea. If they catch you, the punishments range from branding to losing a hand.” The issue ran even deeper than that, he suspected, remembering her anger. In her eyes, this was not an act stemming from greed, this was an act of getting even.
“Look, his actions toward you were deplorable,” he went on, “But that does not give you the right to punish him. That must be done by the proper authorities, to mete out justice, not revenge.”

As far as his eyes could tell, the street they were walking remained empty. As he thought back on it, it had been during the confrontation with the merchant. The only person who could possibly have seen the thievery was Tionra, and Vaoris knew her well enough to know that she would not report it.
There’s still time to make this right. He thought, calming himself.
The woman was still staring at him in surprise at his words. He sighed. “Well, there’s nothing for it. You can hardly rush back and give the goods back now. Perhaps after his anger has cooled somewhat, or when he has gone from his stall. We can give it back before he even knows it to be gone.”


OOC: Sorry for a bit of powerplaying there, I hope it’s ok. Also, I should probably let you know that I personally never use disjointed dialogue. It’s perfectly fine if you do, but I just find it very confusing with two or more people jumping back and forth in time adding dialogue between the lines of the last post. If that makes sense. XD

[/blockquote]

[elvishbanana]

Reena ground her teeth in frustration. What kind of a Rider was he, anyway?

”No. No, it is not a fair trade. It is a crime.”

He looked around as if expecting someone to swoop down on them and drag her away. Reena looked at him, confused. He continued his lecture, though, oddly enough, she got the feeling he wasn’t trying to be patronizing.

”Look, I’m not sure where you’re from, Arasinya Ranastaldo, but stealing is a criminal offense here in Ilirea. If they catch you, the punishments range from branding to losing a hand.”

Reena’s eyes flashed for a second, and then his words sank in. She could lose a hand. She could lose a hand. She could lose a hand. For taking satisfaction! Reena swallowed, fear turning her blood to ice.

”Look, his actions toward you were deplorable, but that does not give you the right to punish him. That must be done by the proper authorities, to mete out justice, not revenge.”

But aren’t you the proper authority? she wondered. If the Riders didn’t govern the laws in their own city, who did? All the same, she could feel her anger melting away. Maybe the elf was right, after all. Shame crept into her heart, staining her cheeks bright red. She continued to stare at him, though. Reena had never met anyone quite like the elf. Even Bear wouldn’t have begrudged her the right to take her revenge. The elf sighed.

”Well, there’s nothing for it. You can hardly rush back and give the goods back now. Perhaps after his anger has cooled somewhat, or when he has gone from his stall. We can give it back before he even knows it to be gone.”

Reena nodded hollowly, then shook her head. Her anger drained, clearing her mind and leaving her feeling drained. Her eyes widened, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. ”What was I thinking?” she whispered. She leaned against the cool stone wall to her right, shaking her head. ”Listen. I’m usually not like this- I don’t know what’s come over me. It’s just… the punishment for stealing is branding or loss of a hand? If that’s true, what’s the punishment for- for grabbing a woman against her will? What’s the punishment for calling her… for calling her…” Here Reena’s voice failed her. ”He called me such things,” she whispered. ”I’ve never been treated that way, never. I just… I lost my head.”

She looked up at him, eyes dry by some miracle. ”Do you really think we can take it back?” she asked. Maybe this Rider knew what he was talking about, after all. Guilt lay in the pit of her stomach like acid, making her want to cry. She had never done anything like this before- Ilirea had changed everything. Reena buried her face in her arm, hiding the tears that were only just beginning to show. She bit her lip, blinking furiously. Bear wouldn’t have made her take it back, or thought it was wrong for her to have taken it. But it was. Bear would have been wrong.

[Angmor]

At last, the implications of what she had done seemed to register as her pale eyes widened in alarm. She seemed to collapse under the realization, coming to a stumbling halt in the lee of a garden wall they were passing. Although he was gratified that his words had finally sunk in, Vaoris immediately regretted making the point so harshly. Did he really have to be that frank in his judgment? Why could he never seem to find the right words for a simple, one-on-one conversation?
”Listen. I’m usually not like this- I don’t know what’s come over me.” She said, shaking her head piteously. “It’s just… the punishment for stealing is branding or loss of a hand? If that’s true, what’s the punishment for- for grabbing a woman against her will? What’s the punishment for calling her… for calling her…”She choked, visibly holding back tears. ”He called me such things,” she whispered. ”I’ve never been treated that way, never. I just… I lost my head.”
Vaoris could definitely relate on that score. How many times had he allowed his emotions to get the better of him and lead him into something he would regret? He had never done anything on this scale, of course, but perhaps he had never been driven as far as this woman Arasinya had been. Now that her guard had fallen, he could now see all of the pent up weariness, frustration and fear that she had to have been feeling, which the encounter with the merchant had finally brought to the point of breaking.
No, she’s not a criminal for doing this, He decided. What she did was wrong, but she knows it too. Even as he decided, she looked up at him, her voice quavering. ”Do you really think we can take it back?” She then did something against which Vaoris had no defense;
She started to cry.

Immediately, he felt a rush of his own guilt. Oh, now look what you did, He berated himself. There you go again, spouting off on what you think everyone should know and making her feel stupid. Who knows where she came from or what brought her here?
Even worse, he had no idea how he might deal with this situation. He had little experience with the female kind, and all of what he did have was bad. He had no idea whether it would be better to simply stand in silence and wait for her to recover herself, or if it would be appropriate for an embrace.
Probably not, he decided. Context of the situation suggested that she probably would not react well to such a thing.
Well, do something.
Fighting his uncertainty, he took a step forward, laying a cautious hand on her trembling shoulder.
“Of course I do.” He answered, doing his best to sound comforting. “I was there, I can vouch that it wasn’t entirely your fault. And I think you’ll never do it again, right?”
She nodded, sniffing.
“There now.” He assured, offering a smile. “It’s a mess, but we’ll sort it out.”
He felt that he should say more, but he wasn’t sure what. He especially needed to let her know that he was not a Rider, before the fallacy grew out of hand. But just blurting it out right here and now seemed wrong as well. She had so many questions and misconceptions that needed to be sorted through, and now was not the time for any of them. After a moment, an idea struck him.
“Tell you what, when did you last eat?” He asked gently. “I expect that you have many questions, and that it may take some time. I would be honored to share a meal with you, if you are willing.”

[/blockquote]

[elvishbanana]

Her tears stunned the Rider. His face was twisted with guilt, and confusion at what to do. Reena wished he wouldn’t stare at her, wished he would say something. But the guilt stopped her. It wasn’t his fault. She hadn’t been able to sleep much in the past few days, and the stress of leaving her homeland for a city that was most certainly not kind to travelers was catching up with her. Reena was tired, and she wanted her loom. She wanted to weave, or sew, or sing, or all three. Reena opened her eyes wide, trying to keep the tears from leaking out. The elf hadn’t done anything wrong- quite the contrary. He’d shown her what was right and good, and been the only person in Ilirea who had been kind to her.

After a moment of standing awkwardly, the elf touched her shoulder, the gesture sending warmth through her blood. She swallowed her tears, willing herself not to let any more escape her. How foolish she must look, how weak- how unable to control herself she must appear to the Rider. His voice was comforting, but uncertain, and she knew then that he was unused to women. That fact was enough to make her trust him. It was an odd connection, a strange similarity between them. She didn’t understand men; he didn’t understand women. For some reason, Reena decided in that instant that one day she would call the a elf “friend”.

”Of course I do. I was there, I can vouch that it wasn’t entirely your fault. And I think you’ll never do it again, right?”

What, and face this awful feeling again? Never, she thought, nodding. She sniffed, closing her eyes briefly to make absolutely certain the tears were gone for good. When she was sure of herself, she opened her eyes and smiled a little at him. It was nice to be forgiven; nice to be told that things would be all right. Bear was good at it, but there was a softness in him that sometimes went too far. Reena could have murdered the human, and Bear would have told her it was all right, and the simple fact was- it wasn’t. Reena liked the elf even more for that, for not hiding the truth from her. It made him seem… just, somehow.

”There now. It’s a mess, but we’ll sort it out. Tell you what, when did you last eat? I expect that you have many questions, and that it may take some time. I would be honored to share a meal with you, if you are willing.”

Reena smiled. ”It’s been a while,” she said. She wouldn’t tell him just how long- she hadn’t had a full meal since breakfast the day before. She’d bought an apple later in the day, and a loaf of day-old bread before the Silk Fiasco, but that had been it. ”I do have a lot of questions, actually,” she said, falling into step with the elf. ”Like, is it true that no two dragons are the same color? And Rider and dragon always have to be opposite sexes? And is it true that a Rider and dragon can share a body? What about magic- do all Riders have powerful magic, or do they still need healers? And their swords- is it true their swords are made to match their dragons?” She looked up at him earnestly. ”I asked Bear about the Riders all the time, but he didn’t know much himself. The elves in the caravan mentioned experiments, is there any truth to that? They say the Riders kidnap people and use magic to… to change them. And they say that the Riders get their power from, from killing people. That’s not true, is it? One of the guards swore his cousin’s best friend’s old lover’s niece was kidnapped and killed in some dark ritual the Riders performed. But there’s no way that could be possible, right?”

She blushed, remembering herself. ”I’m sorry, I just… there’s so much I want to know. But what am I thinking? I should have started with your name.”

Reena could have smacked herself. All the time she’d been calling the elf “the elf”. Where were her manners?

[Angmor]

Vaoris listened, blowing out a breath through his nose as he walked. He had known her to have questions, but it seemed that his offer of companionship had unearthed an even greater supply of them. He listened as they poured from her in a rush, half of them myths or legends that he would have expected to hear from a lost human, but not from another elf. And yet, they were all asked with such an air of wide-eyed innocence, he could not feel any kind of contempt.
By the stars, this is going to take longer than I thought…
He mentally cancelled all his plans for the rest of the day. He found that he didn’t really mind. After all, he was a scholar. Was it not the purpose of a scholar to provide knowledge to people with questions? He could see no better use for his day then to help this lost woman find her way into what was apparently a totally foreign world. And anyway, throughout her torrent of questions, she was dropping small, tantalizing hints about who she was and where she came from all of which he noted for later. He had to resist pulling out his journal to write them down then and there, figuring that it would be rude, but he could at least envision what they would say.
Arasinya Ranastaldo, or Reena. Female elf, about five feet tall, approximately 100 pounds. Shoulder-length flaxen hair. Note of interest: Unusual ice-blue eyes. Known facts: Weaver, Seamstress, and healer. In Ilirea in need of information. What kind?
Who is ‘Bear?’ Doesn’t know much about Riders. Caravan; possibly how she travelled in?
All in all, he didn’t mind this new development a bit. And besides, what male in his right mind would turn down the chance to spend the day with a pretty girl?
Ambushed by the thought, he had to frown slightly.
Huh. He thought. That’s new.

Just then, the flood of questions stopped, as Arasinya apparently realized that she was babbling. ”I’m sorry, I just… there’s so much I want to know.” She said eagerly, her cheeks reddening visibly. “But what am I thinking? I should have started with your name.”
Vaoris smiled, shaking his head dismissively. “No need to apologize. I especially know the desire for knowledge, and in the face of that, my name is of little importance. Although it will definitely save time for referring to each other.” He chuckled. “It’s Vaoris.”
As he finally introduced himself, he guided them around another corner, dodging around a knot of elves in deep conversation. In front of them, the avenue wound down a short hill, coming to a stop at the gate of his favorite park. Vaoris was tempted to wait, but he knew that he would be better off getting it out of the way now. Who knew when he would receive another waypoint in his companion’s talk?
He stopped, placing himself in front of the woman. “I have to clear something up before we go any further,” he said, holding up both of his hands. His plain, ordinary, unmarked hands. “I’m not a Rider,” He stated simply. “I’m sorry, but I’m not. Maybe someday, but…” He shrugged. “I work in the Grand Library. I’m an apprentice scholar there.” His hand moved to his shoulder, pointing to the symbol emblazoned there, its silver and gold thread gleaming proudly in the morning sun. “I am still quite happy to help you, but please don’t afford me an honor I haven’t earned.”
Vaoris waited, smiling sheepishly. There. He had said it. Now it was just a question of how she would react, and if she would reject him to seek out the high and mighty stereotype she seemed to envision.
He hoped not.

[/blockquote]

[elvishbanana]

As she spoke, the elf seemed to enjoy her questions. Just before she stopped, a flicker of a frown crossed his face. Reena wondered if she had offended him in some way without knowing. She swallowed, asking his name with a degree of trepidation. What had she done to make him frown? But instead of frowning further, he smiled and shook his head a little.

”No need to apologize. I especially know the desire for knowledge, and in the face of that, my name is of little importance. Although it will definitely save time for referring to each other. It’s Vaoris,” he said, chuckling. Reena smiled. Vaoris. The name had a nice ring to it, a pleasant sound. Vaoris steered her around a clump of elves, the street before them leading to a gate at the bottom of a hill. On the other side, Reena could see green grass and trees. A park? she wondered. The green was a pleasant sight, relief to her eyes after the hours of dusty brown in the city itself. Vaoris stopped suddenly, standing in front of her. Reena tilted her head, confused. Was something wrong? Vaoris held up his hands. There was something about his hands, something wrong. Something was missing…

”I have to clear something up before we go any further. I’m not a Rider. I’m sorry, but I’m not. Maybe someday, but… I work in the Grand Library. I’m an apprentice scholar there. I am still quite happy to help you, but please don’t afford me an honor I haven’t earned.”

Reena realized then that his hands didn’t have the Rider mark on them, the gedwëy ignasia. He pointed to the symbol on his shoulder as he spoke, and everything made sense to her. The scroll meant the library, the star symbolizing that he worked in the Citadel. Vaoris smiled a little bashfully, and Reena could see his nervousness. He was worried about how she would react? That was odd.

Reena turned to her own feelings, searching herself for anger and finding nothing. Shock, yes. Confusion, certainly. Maybe a hint of irritation, but no true anger. She blinked. ”You mean, you’re an apprentice, with no dragon, no steel, and no incredible powers, and you still came to help me?” she asked sharply. Disbelief crowded her features. She searched his face, but found only honesty. The irritation melted away. ”The courage that must have taken,” she murmured, shaking her head and laughing a little. ”You’re not a fighter, are you?” she asked. ”At first I thought your dragon must have been close by, or that you were a hand fighter or skilled mage. But you don’t like to fight, do you? That fear, the terror in your eyes when that man grabbed you… and still you tried to help me.”
Reena shook her head.

He told me to take the fabric back, knowing full well that he wasn’t responsible for justice, or not knowing the laws, maybe. All he is right now is an apprentice, with no power and no great skill. How could he lecture me, when we’re really not so different? she thought. On the other hand, he’s an apprentice, with no power and no great skill, and still he stepped in to rescue me. And he knew that, too- knew that he’d be risking his own neck to help me.

She swallowed, sighed, and looked up at him, straight into his pale eyes. ”Well. I guess maybe I have better questions to ask you, don’t I?” asked Reena. For a brief moment, steel flashed in her eyes. Like, how can you lecture me the way you did? Or: why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why are you so afraid of telling me the truth?

She touched the symbol on his shoulder gently, a peace gesture. ”Is it true,” she asked quietly, ”that last week an apprentice found elven genealogies that had been lost for years in a little less than a week?”

The corner of her mouth tipped upwards in a small smile. She wasn’t done with him- she didn’t like the fact that he’d led her to believe something that wasn’t true, and she especially didn’t like the way he’d acted about the cloth, his attitude patronizing whether he knew it or not. But for the moment, she was ready to forgive.

[Angmor]

Had he not been quite so close to the situation, it would have been interesting to watch the flickering of the various emotions behind her eyes. As it was however, the waiting was horrible. His throat had suddenly gone dry, like his mouth had become full of sand. Vaoris cursed himself again for not dispelling the illusion as the very first thing he said. If she decided to take offense and to just walk away, then neither of them would get the knowledge they wanted. That was, in his mind, about the worst thing that could get taken from this whole encounter.
Finally, she blinked eloquently, although he had little ideas as to what it meant. ”You mean, you’re an apprentice, with no dragon, no steel, and no incredible powers,” Vaoris braced himself under her sharp tone, waiting for the hammer… “And you still came to help me?”

Vaoris’ head snapped up in surprise. Their eyes met again, and suddenly he could sense the scrutiny increase, and he again felt almost as if her ghostly eyes were peering into his soul. Finally she shook her head, almost laughing with incredulity. ”You’re not a fighter, are you? At first I thought your dragon must have been close by, or that you were a hand fighter or skilled mage. But you don’t like to fight, do you? That fear, the terror in your eyes when that man grabbed you… and still you tried to help me.”
Vaoris had no idea what to say to that. He looked away, feeling his face reddening a little as he shifted his weight from uncomfortably from foot to foot. No, he wasn’t courageous. How could he be? He really had been scared witless. He was no hero. If there had been anyone else capable to help, he would have happily let them. The only difference was that there hadn’t been. There had just been him. Plain, scared, and ordinary.
No, I’m not courageous. Anyone else would have done the same. He thought to himself, although his embarrassment locked his tongue and froze his breath, making him unable to say as much. He was relieved when she looked away from him, a thoughtful look on her face.

Vaoris took the opportunity to study her discreetly. He wouldn’t say it, but he was a bit taken aback by how much significance she had assigned to his act. In his mind, it was no great thing. It was merely a common courtesy, like bowing to a superior, or opening a door for a female. Just one of those things that any decent being just did for others. And yet she seemed to have elevated to some level of greatness because of it. Had she really come from such a hard background that such acts were so rare?
Not to mention, such a place where stealing is an acceptable course of action…
It suddenly occurred to him that she might not be quite so willing to make amends for that, now. After all, having an apprentice scholar saying it was wrong did not really carry the same weight as a Rider saying it, even if the punishments were just as real. Would she hold it against him? He supposed it was possible. Something in her demeanor had definitely changed slightly. But why would she? He had never led her on. He’d never said he was a Rider, she just hadn’t given him a chance to say so before.
But, all the reason in the world is no match for an emotional decision…

Even as he thought, she looked back to him, pinning him with her hard gaze. ”Well. I guess maybe I have better questions to ask you, don’t I?” She asked. Vaoris sighed inwardly, bracing for a dressing down about leading her on with a lie…
Instead, she managed to surprise him again. Her mood softened, and she reached out to brush the shining symbol of his office. Is it true,” she asked quietly, ”that last week an apprentice found elven genealogies that had been lost for years in a little less than a week?”
Vaoris felt his heart skip. How could she have questions about so many things that he considered common knowledge, and have known about that? The scholars had been liberal with their praise, but… He would never have imagined that the news had circulated so far. At least there had not been a name attached. To his own surprise, he found that as proud as he was, he did not really want any public admiration. To scholars who knew of the feat and could recognize it for what it was, but… Not from ignorant people who would blow the deed out of proportion. And especially not from this Reena, who already seemed to think him something of a hero. He found that to her, he simply wanted to be the ordinary Vaoris.
“Yes, it is true.” He finally replied coolly, offering the way forward with a sweep of his arm as he resumed their walk. “I know that particular elf quite well. We work together all the time. He is a great scholar. Not much else,” He chuckled, “But he is a great scholar.”

After a moment’s, Vaoris led her under the archway into one of the city’s several green parks. While each one was unique, this one was especially impressive. While it was smaller than some, taking up only a square between two lodgings, the entire park was nestled between a triangle of three enormous and ancient pine trees that towered into the sky. Indeed, there were even many nooks, arbors and benches sung skillfully into the trees themselves. As Vaoris led them through, he drew in a long breath, the velvety scent of the fallen needles filling his senses. The sun shone pleasantly through the branches above them, creating dappled patches of light and shadow. Here and there, other elves could be seen scattered about, some of them on the ground, some perched easily in the branches, reading, conversing, and singing. When he wasn’t staying in the library, Vaoris himself loved to find sheltered spot about halfway up one of the pines, low enough to be comfortable but high enough that the breeze could reach him. While the elves of Ilirea head certainly settled easily into city life, he had guessed that the blood of the forest and never left them, and even he sometimes craved the companionship of nature. And today, it would make a fine place to answer a young woman’s questions. “This is my second favorite place in the city.” He commented happily, turning to his charge with a smile. “Where would you prefer to sit?”

[/blockquote]

[elvishbanana]

Reena was nearly as surprised as he was, but for a different reason. He seemed so shocked about her reaction- so genuinely unprepared for her admiration. Vaoris turned his face away as she spoke, and she wondered if she had said something wrong. Then his face reddened, and she gulped. She had said something wrong.

Why do I keep second-guessing myself? she wondered, frustrated with herself. Why can’t I stop wondering if I’m saying the right thing? No one else has ever made me this self-conscious. Not even those people in Ellesméra. Is it Ilirea? Is it this Vaoris person? Or is it just me- am I losing my confidence? She bit her lip, irritated not with him, but with herself. Reena was shy by nature. She didn’t like talking to anyone she didn’t have to, and she didn’t open up about herself easily. She avoided conflict, and the only times she spoke up for herself were when she was too furious to think clearly- something had had happened more in a week in Ilirea than in more than a hundred years in Ellesméra. Reena didn’t understand people in general, but she had never fretted much over what they thought of her, or how her words affected them.

Her peace gesture seemed to put him at rest a little. Shock flickered across his face for a moment when she asked about the library apprentice. Finally replying to her question, Vaoris waved his arm forward, a formal gesture she found odd. Not particularly awkward or unkind- just out-of-the-ordinary.

”Yes, it is true. I know that particular elf quite well. We work together all the time. He is a great scholar. Not much else. But he is a great scholar.”

Reena smiled. She didn’t know much about the Grand Library, but she paid attention to the rumors in Ilirea closely. The slim elf had done the same since finding out about her true birth- there was always the chance that maybe, contained within the random bits and pieces of information passed in the laundry line behind her lodging house, there was a clue about who she was. It seemed that at last the habit had paid off. Reena followed Vaoris under an intricately carved arch into the green area she had admired. It was easier on her eyes than the strained, cracked tans of the city walls. Sections of brown peeked out from the trees, revealing the small size of the park. Reena liked it better for the petite size. Character was packed into each and every inch of the place. Three large, old pine trees stretched up towards the sky, comfortable benches and ledges sprinkled throughout each of them. Reena stretched her hand out and touched the knarled and twisted back. Sap turned her fingers sticky. She beamed, inhaling the crisp, clean scent of pine. Other elves sat in the branches and on the ground, patches of yellow sunlight lightening their angled features. A few people sang, each melody different, but somehow weaving together. Reena hummed the melody she heard, unable to keep the smile from her face.

It’s so beautiful, she thought. It’s less… less ethereal than Ellesméra, closer to the real world. You could still lose track of time, but it’s not nearly as spellbinding. And it would be easier to work here, easier to go from the greenness to the cracked brown of the buildings. She blinked, suddenly aware that Vaoris was speaking to her again. She turned to look at him. He was smiling nearly as wide as she was.

”This is my second favorite place in the city. Where would you prefer to sit?”

Reena ran a hand up the trunk of the tree. ”You probably know the place better than I do. It’s so beautiful- I can see why you like it so much. The music, the light, the colors, the smells, the sounds…” she trailed off. ”Sorry- got a little distracted. So- the Library has genealogies, right? Not just from the nobility? And- and are they at all recent? Up-to-date, I mean.” She bit her lip, looking down. ”I’ve been… looking for information for… for a long time. Only I haven’t had access to any reliable information, and, well… it’s important.”

She blushed and pressed her fingertips into the bark. Her throat felt tight. What if he asked what information she needed? What if she wasn’t allowed to search the records herself? Or worst of all- what if they didn’t have the faintest clue how to find out who she was? She missed the certainty she had always felt with Bear. The shock of finding out that he was not truly her father had made her cry for days. Reena hadn’t even been allowed to see him- the last time she had been close to her foster father, he had been dragged away from her. Reena swallowed again, turning her face away. She had finished crying years earlier, but the image of Bear being dragged from her, eyes wide and sad, still hurt. She knew she didn’t belong to him, knew that if he’d been asked to take her he would have told her. The only other option was that he’d kidnapped her or withheld her from her birth family, and that was worse than anything else he could have done. The lie ached like a wound, a gaping hole in her heart. The only thing she could think to do would be to find her real family, and find the same love and support Bear had given her throughout her life.

She blinked. Sunlight shone into her face, flickering with the swaying of the branches above her. Reaching into her belt, she pulled out a packet of olive green thread. The smooth fibers felt good against her fingers. Moving only through instinct, she tied knots in the thread, unsure of exactly what she was creating. She did her best work unconsciously- whenever she sat back and let go of planned movements, the result came out as a true surprise. Her fingers flashed and bent, muscle memory taking over as she wove and knotted.

[Angmor]

Vaoris was tremendously gratified to see that he had chosen well. For all her faults and potential savagery, it was clear that she also held a keen insight and appreciation for beauty. He found himself wishing to see some of her work as a seamstress, and how such an insight might have enhanced her skills. He had always somewhat regretted how most forms of visual expression had eluded his own bumbling attempts to master them. Words were his only medium for creativity, and while that was good enough for him, words weren't exactly beautiful to look at. Beauty could be found only in meaning.
Finally, Reena's smile faded, her praise for the park cut off suddenly. Vaoris thought it was too bad. It had been nice to see her smile.
”Sorry- got a little distracted." She said tentatively, returning to her anxious questions. "So- the Library has genealogies, right? Not just from the nobility? And- and are they at all recent? Up-to-date, I mean.” She bit her lip, her face falling. Vaoris could suddenly see a great weariness behind her eyes. ”I’ve been… looking for information for… for a long time. Only I haven’t had access to any reliable information, and, well… it’s important.”

The woman almost choked over the last few words. She turned away, her throat muscles tight as she steadied herself against one of the ancient trees. Seeing the conflict in her face, Vaoris stood respectfully silent. Something told him that she wouldn't want another gesture of tenderness from him. She’d already shown herself vulnerable once, and Vaoris had observed that was usually the only allowance. As he watched, she withdrew a skein of forest green thread from her pocket, beginning to weave and knot it skillfully with deft, agile fingers. Vaoris held his tongue, mesmerized by the movements of her delicate hands as they effortlessly manipulated the string. The work seemed to have a calming effect on her. He watched as her face slowly grew more peaceful, seeming to lose herself in the act of creating. After another moment, Vaoris felt it safe to step forward and try to get a better look at what she was making.
“You’re very good at that,” He commented sincerely. “When did you learn to weave?”

[/blockquote]

Well, I had an idea for this... And my muse took me a totally different direction.

[elvishbanana]

Vaoris said nothing as she worked to control herself. This time she could sense only respect- he wanted to give her enough space to recover. The weaving calmed her spirits, helped her to regain control as she ventured deeper inside herself. Peace flooded into her heart, replacing the confusion and turmoil of her desperate search for information. Vaoris peered around her, looking at what she did.

”You’re very good at that. When did you learn to weave?”

She smiled. ”Years ago. I’ve been weaving since I was a little girl. Bear made me a loom when I was sixteen. It’s big, and it’s hard to take apart and reassemble, but I couldn’t bear to leave it behind when I left home.” Reena tied a final knot and cut the rest of the thread off with her belt-knife. She held her creation up to the light, unsure of what she’d made. The netting was tight, and as Reena inspected her handiwork, she realized she’d made a bag, a small one suited for carrying market goods. She shook her head, smiling a little. ”I never know what I’m going to make,” she told him. ”Not when I do this. I… how do I put this? I let go. I just trust my instincts. Sometimes it works- sometimes it doesn’t. I guess this time it did.”

She sat on the grass, putting the bag in her lap. Her mind calmed, Reena turned to look at him again. His eyes struck her for the second time- the light color was fascinating. Reena rarely used mirrors, and so saw her own pale irises very rarely. To see such light coloring on another was incredible. She could relate, now, to the people she frightened when angry- Vaoris’s eyes, like her own, could turn into “ghost eyes” easily, his maybe more so than hers, even. Even among elves, the trait was slightly unnerving.

Reena wondered if one of her parents had passed on the trait.

Looking Vaoris square in his silvery eyes, Reena begged him to help. ”Listen. I don’t have much gold, and my magic usage is mediocre at best. But I can weave- and I’ll trade a hundred years of service weaving for the Library or the Riders or anyone who can give me the information I need. Do you think… do you think maybe that would be acceptable payment?”

Her desperation edged into her voice, and she worked hard to keep it out. Her heart still felt calm, but her mind was racing. What happens if he says no? I guess I’ll just have to find it myself. I wouldn’t even know where to being, though. Could I really do it- break into the Library and find what I need without being caught? It seems hopeless- but I have to try. And even if he says the Library or the Riders would accept service as payment, can I trust him not to tell them what I need? Reena didn’t know why it was so important that no one knew about her quest. Part of her was afraid that the truth would hurt Bear. Part of her was afraid the truth would hurt her. And part of her- a very large part- didn’t care, so long as she found out who she was. For so long Bear had hidden the truth from her, and just when she knew he had been about to tell her everything, he had been taken away from her.

And she had found out she was a kidnapped child from one of his guards, a nasty, stubborn fellow who refused to let her see him. ”Arasinya? Not the same Arasinya that went missing years ago? Oh, this is rich. The kidnapped elf-child thinks her abductor was her father!”
Is my father, thought Reena obstinately. Bear had loved her, she knew that. But she would never know if there was another family who had loved her as well, a mother and father- maybe even a sibling! And Reena knew that, as long as her only last name was one she had taken from Bear, she would never be content.

OOC: Sorry it took me so long to get this up! My muse completely fried out on me the other day.

[Angmor]

The only thing more interesting than watching the process was the result.
”I never know what I’m going to make,” she said to him, all traces of her anxiety replaced by a beatific smile. ”Not when I do this. I… how do I put this? I let go. I just trust my instincts. Sometimes it works- sometimes it doesn’t. I guess this time it did.”
At last, Vaoris could see what the movements of her hands had conjured; a small market bag. Simple enough in its own right, something so plain and ordinary that he would never before have given it a second thought. But having seen it being made, fashioned before his eyes in a matter of moments, it suddenly transcended into something extraordinary. And to be made without conscious thought…
He shook his head in amazement. She truly possessed a rare gift for creating, one that he unfortunately did not possess. It was different between him and his words. Occasionally, he would feel a strange sort of pull, a feeling to which he could surrender in order for brilliance to flow from his pen, but such things happened rarely. Most often, he had to labor with his words, directing them, forcing them into the correct positions, whipping them into shape. He realized with a slight pang of envy that his gift could never be as effortless as hers.

At the very least, the work had at last calmed her down. Her face had softened visibly, and her expression was peaceful. Amid the light and the trees, she looked like any other young elf, prone to wandering the forests and singing to the trees.
But only for a moment.
After a few heartbeats, she blew out a breath, settling herself gracefully onto the grass at the foot of the trees. Smoothing her dress about her knees, she set her newborn creation on her lap and looked back to him, the familiar determination back in her eyes.
”Listen. I don’t have much gold, and my magic usage is mediocre at best. But I can weave- and I’ll trade a hundred years of service weaving for the Library or the Riders or anyone who can give me the information I need. Do you think… do you think maybe that would be acceptable payment?”
While her face was still serene, her eyes pleaded silently for a hope. Vaoris blew out a breath of his own. How long had she been on this little quest? He desperately wanted to give her a happy answer, but... it wasn't quite that simple.

The heat had grown as they had been standing there, the summer sun climbing higher toward midday. Glancing around, Vaoris shrugged off his scholar's robe and lowered himself onto the grass opposite his companion, laying the garment carefully beside him. "Well, the answer to that question is surprisingly complicated," He said, rolling the sleeves of his light tan tunic up to his elbows. "First of all, we scholars have a favorite maxim: 'knowledge must always be free.' The doors of the Grand Library are open to all. The scholars' salaries are paid out of the tribute that the Riders collect from the monarchies of men and elves." As he spoke, he passed the strap of his satchel over his head and opened the top, laying the contents on the grass between them. Upon going out that morning, he had purchased a loaf of fresh bread, a bag of preserved fruit, as well as a slice of simple white cheese. He had not been expecting to entertain, but there would be just enough for two, and he wasn't so short of coin that he couldn't buy more.
"It's a modest salary, so we don't turn down any donations from the people we serve, but we have all that we need. Suffice to say, the Library is yours to use whenever you wish."

He could sense Reena's thrill of hope, but he didn't look up as he occupied himself with splitting the loaf into two neat halves. He could not leave things at that, much as he wanted to.
"But, it is a bit more complicated than that." He said regretfully. "We scholars also say that knowledge has its price. And in this case, it is time. The Library is huge. We store extensive collections of literature on every subject, gathered from every corner of Alagaesia and sometimes even beyond. When you're looking for something specific, it can take weeks and even months to find. And that's when things are all in order. You already know about the lost records that I- my friend, found." He caught his breath, glad that he had stopped himself before his slip of the tongue. That had been entirely too close. He smiled wistfully. "And just to add one more layer of complication, some of the elven geneaologies are restricted, on the request of the families themselves. Elven politics can be a little cutthroat these days, and some families believe that their records of birth and offspring might give an advantage to their political enemies. The Riders can override the order, of course, but until that happens, the scholar in charge is obliged to keep the records from all but family members. If that is even what you're looking for. You mentioned it earlier."
He smiled gently, offering her half of the bread. "Really, it just depends on what exactly you're looking for," He said, probing lightly with his eyes.

[/blockquote]

I also apologize for taking this long. Between my sister's wedding and a new Nancy Drew game that my mom loves... I need to by my own computer.

[elvishbanana]

As her fingers darted and wove through the knotted material, she was aware of Vaoris watching her intently, seemingly fascinated by her movements. As she held up the bag to the light, inspecting her handiwork, Vaoris shook his head, eyes wide with astonishment. Reena couldn’t hold back a tiny smile at his wonderment. She loved weaving, loved the pure inspiration that seized her whenever cloth touched her fingers. The feelings that consumed her whenever she created were unlike anything else she’d even known- incomparable to everyday life. It was as much a part of her as her eyes, or her quiet nature, her temper. Whenever she had a chance to put needle and thread together, she felt in the deepest parts of herself- in the marrow of her bones, in the inner pockets of her heart, that it was where she belonged. She was no warrior, no mage or scholar. She wasn’t a great beauty, she wasn’t noble or brave like a hero from the legends. Reena was a weaver, an artist with cloth. It was all she’d ever wanted.

A desperate, distressed look crossed the scholar’s face at her plea. He blew out, sitting on the grass with her slowly. Reena tensed. She could feel bad news coming. Vaoris put his robe next to him, lovingly setting it on the grass. Underneath the robe he wore a simple tunic and leggings, the light tan cotton clashing beautifully with his worn leather boots. Reena’s shrewd eyes took in the workmanship critically- she found herself unconsciously designing him new clothes- the colors suited him, but she imagined the seams in different places. He was so tall- longer, more fitted tunics would suit him better. Reena blinked, trying to focus in on his words again. Vaoris rolled up his sleeves, revealing pale forearms as he opened his own bag, drawing out bread, fruit and cheese. ”Well, the answer to that question is surprisingly complicated. First of all, we scholars have a favorite maxim: ‘knowledge must always be free.’ The doors of the Grand Library are open to all. The scholars’ salaries are paid out of the tribute that the Riders collect from the monarchies of men and elves.” Reena’s heart leapt. Would she be allowed to search, just like that? It didn’t seem- it couldn’t be- possible.

It wasn’t.

Vaoris cut the loaf of warm brown bread into two pieces, his face twisted into an apologetic expression. “But, it is a bit more complicated than that. We scholars also say that knowledge has its price.” For half a second, Reena’s heart stopped. So there was a price. Curses splashed across her mind before he continued. “And in this case, it is time. The Library is huge. we store extensive collections of literature on every subject, gathered from every corner of Alagaesia and sometimes even beyond. When you’re looking for something specific, it can take weeks and even months to find. And that’s when things are all in order. You already know about the lost records that I- my friend, found. And just to add one more layer of complication, some of the elven genealogies are restricted, on the request of the families themselves. Elven politics can be a little cutthroat these days, and some families believe their records of birth and offspring might give an advantage to their political enemies. The Riders can override the order, of course, but until that happens, the scholar in charge is obliged to keep the records from all but family members. If that is even what you’re looking for. You mentioned it earlier. Really, it just depends on what exactly you’re looking for.”

Vaoris proffered half of the loaf, and Reena accepted it slowly, thinking as quickly as she could. She’d trusted Vaoris already- and he’d told her the truth. There was something in his face, something so honest she felt she had to trust him. Reena put the bread in her lap, holding it and admiring the contrast of the brown against the slate blue of her dress. She took a deep breath. ”The thing is,” she said quietly, ”you said the scholar in charge is obliged to keep the records from everyone but members of that family. Well, the issue with that is- there’s no telling whether I can look or not. My last name, Ranastaldo- it’s not my birth name. It was my guardian’s, my foster father’s.”

Reena closed her eyes briefly, charging ahead with her story before she could think too hard about what she was about to do. ”All my life, I lived with a man named Beriothien- I called him Bear. He doted on me, but he never let me call him Father. I didn’t understand why. For my hundredth birthday, Bear and I left home- we had a house on the beach- and we went to Ellesméra. The minute we arrived, Bear was arrested and taken away from me. I have not seen him for seventeen years. I heard the story from a city guard- Bear and a few others kidnapped me when I was only a few weeks old, and they tried to take me out of the forest. Bear changed his mind and took me away from them, and raised me as his own. I know my family was… well-known, and well-off. But beyond that, I have no idea who I am. I’d intended to look in the records here for disappearances, kidnappings, things of that nature, dating from a hundred and seventeen years ago.”

Reena didn’t touch the bread in her lap, waiting with bated breath for Vaoris to respond. She’d put her faith in him, for reasons she barely understood. Instinct was a hit-or-miss strategy with Reena- either she trusted herself and it worked, like with the green bag in her lap, or it didn’t, and she ended up with a vague… something, or a tangled mess of string. She’d trusted her instincts with the elven scholar who’d defended her already- would she end up with a bag, or a tangled mess?

OOC: No worries, we all have those days! xDD my sister’s obsessed with the Nancy Drew games, too.

[Angmor]

Vaoris listened in astonishment, unable to keep the abject surprise from his face. He had been expecting something unusual, of course. Even after such a short time with her, he could not believe her to be totally ordinary and mundane, in need of some innocuous archival reference. But this… The fact that she was the lost child of an important elven family, kidnapped at an early age by the individual who would become her foster father… That was beyond amazing. And yet, it all fit. The savage nature, the ignorance of Ilirea in general, the furtiveness, it all fell into place with her tale of being raised by a kidnapper. It was a fascinating story. Something definitely worth telling someday, worthy of its own addition to the archives. Even more so that it was not yet finished. And he was going to be there to see it unfold! Not a bad thing for a scholar to stumble upon, even on his day off.

His surprise turning into excitement, his fingers burned to begin writing it down. As ever, his pen, ink, and journal were never further than arm’s reach away from him, but he was able to restrain himself. Even he was able to picture how rude it would be to whip out a journal and start scribbling in the middle of a conversation. Besides, something else occurred to him. As astounding as the story was, even more amazing, in his mind, was the fact that she was telling him. With a story like that, he figured she had very good reason to keep it for herself. And yet, she still went out on a limb to trust him, after meeting him a bare half-hour before. He had helped her against the merchant, of course, but that did not speak too much to his character. And she had still divulged her story to him in full, without him even having to ask. He needed to acknowledge that fact before he did anything else.

He noticed suddenly how nervous she was. She stared at him like a deer waiting to run from a predator, her body tense, her breath short. Vaoris felt instantly guilty for her discomfiture. She was laying a great secret before him, and all he could think about was what a great story it made.
Get over yourself. This isn’t some book. This is a real happening, with a real person involved. This girl is here, and she needs your help.
“Before anything else, I want to thank you.” He said finally, making a gesture of assurance with his hand. “You’ve been carrying a great burden, and sharing it with me took a special kind of courage. I swear, on my life, that I will do everything I can to be worthy of that trust.” He paused for a moment. “Even so, I’m very glad that you told me. Now that I know, there is much that I can do to help you.” It was true, really. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that she really could not have run into a better person. And even more, he really wanted to help her, in whatever way he could. Ever since she had finished speaking, something inside of him had been saying that her mission was somehow important, and that he needed to help her see it through. Even more, his heart ached to think how long she had needed to bear her burden on her own, and he determined, right there on the spot, that she would not have continue on alone. Regretfully however, that did not mean that her problems would just go away.
“There are still a few obstacles in the way, though.” He said. “But together, I know we can find a way around them.” He gestured to the food. “Please, eat as much as you wish. If you were searching the city for so long without work, you must not have been eating much.”

[/blockquote]

Not my best, especially after your absolutely brilliant one just now.