Accused

 

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Chapter 1

Three people walked down a wandering forest path. Orange and yellow leaves floated to the ground from the towering trees in the warm autumn air. Small streams of water flowed past their feet from the rain of days before. A single, fully bloomed, black rose floated in the water and one of the figures bent down gracefully to pick it up.

She stood up holding the blossom to her chest. Her face fell as he looked at the black flower. Her blonde hair reached the small of her delicate back. Her blue dress hung daintily on her thin shoulders and reached her knees, revealing beautifully fine legs and small bare feet, floating a few inches from the ground. Protruding from her shoulder blades were two fluttering, crystalline wings. The fairy raised the flower and notched the bloom into the bark of a nearby tree.

The middle figure, a strong, tall man strode with pride. He had muscular shoulders, a thin beard, short, dark hair and a thick staff on his back. His brown and green attire stood out in the bright, sun-filled forest and his hands were bound in front of him.

The third individual stood thinner than the other man, but appeared just as strong. He had a bow on his back and a silver sword on his left hip. His long, dark hair was smooth and reached the base of his shoulder blades. His form represented, clearly, that of an elf.

The captured man shrugged his shoulder and brushed the dark blossom. It fell softly to the ground, where the water grabbed at it like a hungry animal. The fairy fluttered after it wordlessly and plucked the flower up a second time. She landed noiselessly on a small mound and lay the flower on the yellow leaves. The man strolled next to her and she ducked under the staff strapped on his back.

“Sorry,” he muttered. His voice was rough and he looked into the childlike face of the small fairy. Her purple eyes sparkled with tears from the flowers devastating reminder. A town had been washed out from the rain and each rose represented a lost soul.

They had seen nearly a dozen of these heavy-hearted reminders.

“What do they mean?” the man stopped and gestured to the rose.

“Each rose is a memento. Every time a fairy passes, one is placed into the river in mourning,” the fairy’s soft, musical voice replied to the man and she wiped a glittering tear from her cheek.

The second, thinner man had stopped and silently watched the short exchange.

“If we wish to reach the city by nightfall, we can’t stop,” he grabbed the man’s arm and pulled to get him walking again.

“I have done nothing wrong,” he continued forward.

“You trespassed on fairy and elven land. That is reason enough for the court.”

“Now give me a straight answer. Why would an elven ambassador be escorting a trespasser? Are there not more important things for you to be doing?”

“Only because I am an ambassador does not mean I cannot do anything else with myself.”

“So you chose to patrol borders?” he raised an eyebrow questionably.

“I enjoy the outdoors.”

“How often do you actually engage the ambassador business?”

“I only commute for my duties twice a year.”

“And I suppose that you are well paid for them?”

“Yes, of course,” he continued a moment later, right as the prisoner was about to remark on how rich the elven ambassador was, “but I am not rich. I love comfortably, but not expensively. I hunt for my own food and carry my own water each morning.”

“But why would this mean you do not have a fortune? You live cheaply, but what’s to show you don’t have piles of gold hidden away?” he questioned, in an almost mocking manner.

“I donate most of my income to the poor and needy of all races, particularly humans,” he added. “As my next trip is approaching in merely a week, I am to donate towards the fairy town. To help rebuild their lost homes and replace any possessions they may require.”

Stunned from the generosity this elf claimed to have, the man continued on in silence, humbled from the stinging words.

Fluttering overhead, the small fairy darted in front of the ambassador, “Don’t move, because I’m going to hug you,” she hung around his neck, sparkling tears rolling down her smooth cheeks. “Alexandre, you are the kindest elf that ever did exist!”

Smiling a kind, bright grin, Alexandre patted her awkwardly on her back and she let go a moment later.

“You are welcome, Bixby. It is the least I can do.”

“But the most anybody is willing to give,” she smiled a tearful smile, wiping off the dazzling droplets. “So many people say they are sorry, but none do anything to help. They send condolences, but words are of no use to us.”

“I know what you feel, which is why I am so eager to donate to your cause.”

The human, silent this whole while, stared solemnly at the muddy ground he was passing over, feeling completely and utterly guilty for his contemptuous words.

It was several hours and the sun was beginning to set before another word was said and it was Alexandre who spoke them, “We are nearing the elven city.”

The man was blindfolded as they moved closer, for no human had ever ventured through the gates knowing the path they took. Alexandre and Bixby placed a hand on each shoulder to lead him through a series of paths and after nearly a half-hour they stopped in front of a thick, solid tree in the darkening twilight.

Lifting his hand from the mans shoulder, Alexandre knocked four times on the wood. A hollow echo followed his knocking and a few moments later, Alexandre placed his hand back on the thick shoulder and they walked through the tree. No sensation was felt as they moved through the entrance and a couple miles into the quiet city, the blindfold was removed.

Blinking in the light, the man gasped and stared around at the magnificent buildings.

Tall, swirling architecture’s towered over the three figures walking down the empty lane. A small elf child ran across the road, laughing and screaming, in the pursuit of a butterfly. The small feet alighted on the paved road as if she had wings and was a fairy herself.

Many humans and dwarves had never entered the city, but very few who had been in the elven capital had seen an elven child. The appearance was much like a fairy, but without the wings, although they did have a different feel when one did meet them.

His mouth wide open at the sight of the child, he turned and tried to watch her running, but she had disappeared into the shadows. Several miles later, the trio approached a huge, and beautiful building. The appearance greatly confused the bound man walking between the two captures. It seemed to be a great tree, yet windows and balconies could be distinguished among the solid wood of the towers.

A golden gate flickering in the torchlight barred their way and was guarded by two elves in full armor. Each held a spear and had a sword on their hip.

“What are your names and what is your business here?” One asked, raising an eyebrow at the human who stood before him.

The elf stepped forward, “I am Alexandre, the ambassador of the elves, this is Bixby and this man is our prisoner. He was trespassing on the fairy land and, with Bixby attempting to stop him, fled onto the elven ground.”

“I have a name. My name is not ‘prisoner’ or ‘human’ and I would prefer that it didn’t change to that.”

“State your name then,” the guard was trying not to roll his eyes at the indignation of the man.

“My name,” he drew himself up, “is Cahir.”

Alexandre added, “And, as I said, he trespassed, therefore, we are to seek the presence of the queen.”

“Of course,” the guards unlocked the gate and it swung open, revealing the courtyard of the palace. The path to the castle doors was not wide and paved as the rest of the city was. Instead, a winding path wove through trees, flowers and around elegant fountains. They crossed the threshold of a wooden doorway and into a great hall. Chandeliers made of wood and decorated with leaves. The hall was lit with the hundreds of candles sitting in the small wooden cups that had seemingly grown with the chandeliers.

Alexandre had seemingly ignored all the amazing paintings, carvings and exquisite artwork adorning the walls, pillars and ceiling. He strode forward, hand placed comfortably on the hilt of his sword.

“How was this place built?” Cahir asked wonderingly, gazing around the hall in awe.

“Do you not know that elves perform magic?”

“Well, yes-”

“Then you have your answer,” Alexandre stated shortly. “When we are in the presence of the queen, I would recommend you keep silent unless you are questioned directly.”

Bixby fluttered behind Cahir, staring around the hallway, it being her first time in the palace also.

Alexandre halted in front of a thick door and, using the golden knocker on the door, knocked three times.

“Enter!” the voice of the elven queen reverberated through the door.

The door swung open with none to open it and Alexandre grabbed Cahir’s arm, Bixby following his lead. Two guards stopped them a few feet in, where Alexandre surrendered his weapons and handed over Cahir’s wooden staff. Although he could not do anything about his weapon being removed, Cahir seemed uncomfortable without his staff on his strong back.

A paige boy held out his arms and accepted the weapons. Cahir, again being held by Bixby and Alexandre, was led forward in front of the large, wooden throne on which sat the most beautiful woman Cahir had ever set eyes on.

The queen sat, upright and regal on the intricately carved throne. Her black hair was curled up into an elegant bun and her robes were green with leaves embroidered with gold. The dress draped elegantly over her knees and onto the smooth floor. A golden circlet sat on top of her beautiful head. Her brown eyes watched as they moved forward and bowed in front of her. He mouth curved into a smile as she recognized Alexandre.

“My queen,” he bowed, a smile appearing on his features also.

“What brings you into my presence?”

“A trespasser,” he stepped back to show her Cahir.

“And what is your name?”

“My name is Cahir.”

“And mine’s Bixby,” the small fairy said nervously when the queen looked expectantly at her.

“I am pleased to meet you Bixby. Alexandre,” she turned her head to look him in his grey eyes, “what land did Cahir trespass on?”

“Both fairy and elven land. Bixby was pursuing him as he fled onto our ground and I captured him there. We have brought him here for advice on what should be done.”

Disregarding Alexandre’s earlier words of advice, Cahir blurted out, “I was tracking deer and failed to notice I had entered the fairies domain!”

“Now is this so?”

“I swear upon my life!”

“Where would be your bow? And your quiver?”

“Lost both while I fled,” he muttered.

“They will be replaced,” Cahir looked up swiftly into the queen’s gentle face, “with an elven bow and arrows. I will create them myself.”

“Your majesty!” Alexandre cut in, “He has committed a crime!”

“A crime he did not intend to commit,” she lifted her hand to silence Alexandre as he was about to argue.

“Unbind him,” she gestured to a guard and he cut the bonds holding Cahir’s hands behind his back.

He rubbed his wrists, which were sore and raw. They were red from the friction of the rope and a small trickle of blood ran down his hand.

“Queen Dacia,” Alexandre cut in again, “How do you know this man does not lie?”

“As you know very well, Alexandre,” her voice was like a scolding mother, “I have the magical strength to delve into the minds of non-magical folk and Cahir,” she raised her hand, “has told the complete and honest truth. On your trip in six days, he will accompany you to the capital of his own race.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Alexandre bowed stiffly, speaking through clenched teeth. A moment later, he had retrieved his weapons from the paige and exited the room, closing the door harder than necessary.

Bixby, standing silently aside during this whole exchange, gazed questioningly at the queen, but was too nervous to speak.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m keeping you standing. Have a seat,” she waved her hand and two chairs grew out of the wooden floor for Bixby and Cahir to sit in. “How did you build this beautiful palace?”

“Ah,” she smiled running her hand along the arm of her chair, “My powers lie within trees and I can shape them however I like. As the clay is the potter’s skill, trees are mine.”

“That is fascinating! You must be really magical!”

“Yes, both my parents were strong and I inherited a lot of their power.”

A meal was brought and the two women ate while conversing about a great number of subjects, for Cahir had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had sat in the comfortable chair. Dacia and Bixby talked until midnight was near, but when they noticed how deeply Cahir had dozed off, Dacia spoke, “You must be tired, also,” Dacia stood, “I will show you a room you can stay in.”

“What about Cahir?”

“He is comfortable,” a knowing smile flashed on the queens kind face and Bixby glanced over to see that the chair had molded into a comfortable bed, with leaves for cushion.

She smiled as Cahir rolled over with a snort.

Dacia led a yawning Bixby into a large bedroom, where she left her to sleep for the night.

 

 

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Chapter 2

While all this was going on, Alexandre was in his home, lying awake in his bed. After falling asleep he woke sometime in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Screaming rang in his ears and the sound of crackling wood filled the air. He could smell smoke feel the heat, and feel the ground tremble beneath his feet.

The cool autumn air on his moist skin chilled him as he sat up in his bed, breathing heavily. He reached up with his hands and wiped the tears running down his cheeks away.

He could picture his old home, a large tree, but the latest image his mind had processed of it ruined the picture. He saw flames shooting from the windows and smoke filled the air along with the screaming of elves around the city. He had dropped his sack, filled with clothing from a recent ambassador trip, and ran towards the flaming home. Several elven men had grabbed him and held him back with much difficulty. Half a dozen water elves came and doused the house in water a few minutes later. Steam rose from the burnt remains of the building. Alexandre broke free from the elves and dashed in through the doorway and up flights of stairs, searching for the bedrooms of his family. Every room he found held a horrifying image of a burnt corpse. His body felt as if an axe had cut into his heart at every picture. Seven such reminders rose in front of his eyes. His one sister, four brothers, mother and father. Gone. Gone forever. In the hallway of the crumbling house he had collapsed to stricken with grief to move any further.

“Alexandre!” Voices echoed through the dead home, “The building is coming down! You must get out!”

The floor shook and began to tip. Two pairs of hands picked him up and carried him down the shaking stairs and out the crumbling front door. As soon as they had vacated the building it collapsed, filling the air with hot ash and pieces of debris. The ground trembled so hard that every elf near the burning tower fell to the earth from the tremors.

“No!” he had shouted, tears running down his cheeks. He stood and gazed helplessly at his burning home. He was coated in ash and covered in burns and bleeding cuts from the wood that had flown in every direction, but soon felt arms around him. An abnormally tall elf man was holding him close. Alexandre did not even know who the citizen was, but he hugged the man, sobbing into his shoulder, eager for friendship from anybody.

The cause of the fire and, therefore, the deaths of Alexandre’s whole family, still remained wholly unknown. Some claimed it was a result of his ambassador job and someone did not like what he had caused, others said it was a wild dragon and a number agreed that a fireplace had lit the house on fire, but one thing Alexandre had never revealed was the fact that, when he buried them, he could see where they had all been slit in the throat.  

 

Alexandre stood and dressed in the dark, chilly room, then made his way out of the house, grabbing a small bag filled with several objects. One lit candle in one hand and the sack in the other he strode, completely alone, down the street, in the pitch black and the fog. The graveyard was soon in view and he walked through the gateway. A row of gravestones were lined near the fence and he crouched next to each, placing a candle from the satchel in the ground in front of the marked stone. He lit each candle as he went then moved to the fence and sat down, leaning against the wooden pole. He stared down the row of lit stones in silence and remembered when it was that the home he had lived in collapsed in front of his very eyes and he ran his hand up his arm to where he could feel a thin scar from  a piece of wood that had cut him when the house had collapsed.

It had been fifty years since the death of his family. He had been fifteen when that had happened. He sat in complete silence, watching the seven candles flicker. The dawn was soon near and Alexandre blew out each candle and replaced them into the bag. He walked slowly back to his house, the graveyard disappearing in the thick fog as he walked slowly away.

He made himself a breakfast and sat down in front of a large canvas, a picture in his head of what he should paint. Colors mixed, brushes moved swiftly over the white canvas and his meal sat, forgotten. Dark greys, greens, blues, light greys, black and small spots of yellow and orange decorated the colored canvas and, several hours later, a finished composition sat before him.

Seven gravestones, seven candles, fog, and dark grass adorned the rough fabric.

A light knock on his door made him jump slightly and he called out for whoever it was to enter.

The door opened slowly and Bixby walked tentatively into the room.

“Good morning Alexandre.”

“Good morning,” he responded distractedly, busy adding a small touch of paint to a gravestone.

“Wow. That’s really pretty,” she stood at his shoulder, admiring the artwork.

“Thank you,” he collected all of his supplies and carried them into the kitchen, where he began to rinse them in a bin of clean water.

“When are you planning on going back to the fairies?” Alexandre tried to strike up a conversation.

“To tell the truth, I think it would be fun to go with you to the capital. That is, if you don’t mind,” she smiled hopefully, her purple eyes meeting his sad, grey ones.

When he failed to answer and broke eye contact to continue scrubbing at this brushes, she continued, “I’ve never been to the capital of the humans, but I’ve heard of it’s splendour,” she wrapped her delicate hands around her warm mug.

“I have been many times and I would appreciate a companion I can trust.”

“So I can go with you and Cahir?”

“I must warn you though, it is dangerous,” he cautioned her, “And I cannot protect three people.”

“That will not be a problem with me and I know Cahir can fight.”

“I do not care whether or not Cahir can fight- I do not trust him.”

“Why?”

“I do not trust humans. I have been an ambassador for around fifty years and they are always trying to slip in words that deceive to make it so they have their own way in certain things.”

“But not all humans are that way,” Bixby tried to argue, but was cut off before she could finish.

“How do you know that? How many humans have you met? I have dealt with them since I was fourteen years old and there have been no honest humans!” his fist clenched the mug tightly and his muscles were tense.

“What human’s have you dealt with? Rich people? Other ambassadors? Have you ever interacted with the citizens? They are not rich and powerful because they do not cheat with their words,” Bixby realized she had risen from her seat and was several inches off the ground, looking down into Alexandre’s eyes. “Have you even given them a chance?”

His face was emotionless and he stood up. Grabbing both of the empty mugs, he walked to the washing basin in his kitchen and pouring water into a pot to wash the dishes in. As he lit his fire and put the pot over the warm flames he spoke, “You speak the truth, but your words will not convince me to trust Cahir. I apologize for speaking so.”

“It’s alright,” she sat back down in the chair, “I understand your point of view.”

Shortly after, Bixby left the house and walked down the smooth road to the castle, where she ate a small meal before trying to find Dacia.

She waited for a half-hour outside of the throne room, due to a meeting that was currently taking place, until the elves filed out and she could make her way in. She found Dacia looking through a thick stack of parchment, but on sight of Bixby, she placed it aside and smiled.

“Morning!” she greeted.

“Afternoon, don’t you mean?”

“Oh, is it afternoon already?” She asked and when Bixby nodded, “No wonder I’m hungry. Guard!” she called one of the men standing by the door, “Would you please, if convenient, head down to the kitchens and find me a meal? If inconvenient, go anyways.”

“Yes, my lady,” the guard chuckled and left the room in pursuit of a meal for his ruler.

“What brings you to this tedious place at this time, Bixby?”

“Not much. I have explored all of the city that I feel like doing today and I now know my way around this beautiful palace fairly well. She hesitated for a few moments and Dacia waited patiently, “I do have one question, however, about Alexandre.”

“Oh, do you?” Dacia leaned forward, in anticipation of what was to be asked.

“What happened to his family?”

“Ah,” Dacia stared at the floor sadly, “that is for him to tell either when he chooses to share that information or if you wish to ask him. One thing I would like to request of you while we are speaking of him is: If magic is ever brought up, please do your best at hiding the fact you know he possesses no magical qualities. He does not like having it told behind his back, but I felt you should know. That is another subject he will share in his own time and with his own words.”

“Of course,” Bixby nodded vigorously.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, I suppose so, but do you mind if I stay in here with you? I desperately want to just look at the detail on the ceiling.”

“There will be another meeting soon, but you can stay in here if you wish during the whole thing. If I trust you, the others will.”

“Thank you!” Bixby curtsied and flew up to the ceiling to look at the intricate carvings and paintings so high up, while Dacia picked the parchment up and continued reading.

 
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Chapter 3

Over the next five days, Bixby and Cahir wandered the city together, admiring the unique buildings and looking at the trinkets sold by shops along the streets. On the evening of the fourth day, the two were provided with clothing and supplies. Cahir received his promised bow and arrows from the queen. They were of the finest make and, as she told him, the bow would be practically unbreakable. A quiver was provided, also of the best make. It was a deep green, to enhance the camouflage of the hunter.

During this whole week, Alexandre had been seen rarely. Often, he was carrying water and, during the last couple of days, he had been purchasing food for the trip, although when he was seen, no words were spoken between him, nor any other.

On the morning of their departure, the three met in the palace and Dacia bid them farewell.

“Dacia, if I may, I would appreciate it if you would send only one tenth of my earnings to my home and I want the rest to go towards the fairies village that has been lost.”

“I will send it as soon as possible,” she blinked in surprise at the huge donation, then smiled at the kindness he was doing.

“Thank you,” he bowed  then turned to his companions, “Are we ready to set off?”

“I am when you are!” Bixby rose a couple feet in the air with excitement.

“I am ready,” Cahir said gruffly, for he did not care much for Alexandre, rather like Alexandre cared not for him.

“We will depart then. Farewell, queen Dacia,” he bowed again and turned towards the front gates.

“Goodbye!” Bixby waved awkwardly, then flew forward and gave Dacia a hug, “I will miss you even though we’ve barely met, I believe you are one of my greatest friends!”

“I will miss your company, also.”

“Thank you for your hospitality and may happiness follow you the rest of your days,” Cahir bowed his head, then followed Alexandre and was soon trailed by Bixby.

As they strode through the streets, elves wished Alexandre luck and safety. Many children stared, wide-eyed, at Cahir, who was the first human most had encountered.

In the same place where Alexandre had removed the blindfold nearly a week before, he replaced it until they were a distance outside the gate.

The sky, which had been so blue several hours before, when they had departed, was now grey and overcast. A cold rain began to fall and soon turned into a downpour. Bixby dug in her pack and pulled out a cloak. Cahir soon followed suit.  

When the rain did not let up, but instead began to come down so heavily they could only see a few inches in front of them, they halted under a tree to wait for the icy downpour to end.

Bixby, muttering to herself under her breath, pulled off her wet cloak.

“Is something the matter?” Cahir’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Bixby.

“Oh, it’s just my enchantments. The water-resistant charm I put on my cloak is wearing off already. She placed her hands on the wet fabric and closed her eyes. A faint, blue glow spread over the  cloak and began drying and, within a few moments, was as dry as it was when they set out. As the trees above became wetter, the rain began dripping more constantly, but all the water that landed on the enchanted clothing rolled off onto the damp ground. Bixby pulled it back over her shoulders and hugged herself. The chilly afternoon was all the colder with the rain.

“What kind of magic can you cast?” Cahir asked, fascinated.

“I can perform a wide variety of spells, but I cannot do very strong ones. For example, I cannot stop this water from raining on us, because I would be working too constantly and warding off so much water,  I would become exhausted in under a few minutes. I am unusually flexible in the magic I can perform, but I cannot perform as strong of spells as most fairies.”

“How does one perform magic? I’ve always been curious, but never encountered someone who could use magic and know them remotely well enough to even ask.”

”Concentration is key. You must focus on what you are to perform and wipe clean the rest of the mind. A contact of some form is helpful, but the stronger spell casters do not need that aid.”

“Now I can understand why humans have no magicians,” Cahir began laughing, “Many of us tend to have little patience and the ability to clear our minds.”

Bixby’s merry laugh joined with Cahir’s, “I have never met another human, but I was always confused as to why they do not have magical qualities.”

“And now you know,” Alexandre cut in and the two stopped their laughter.

“Did somebody wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Cahir glared into Alexandre’s eyes.

Cahir’s stinging question was ignored and Bixby watched them tensely, then gasped so quietly neither heard her over the pattering of the rain, but glanced at her when her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She had just realized that Cahir did not know that Alexandre did not have the powers considered normal among elves.

“Is something the matter?” Alexandre seemed on edge.

“No,” Bixby’s voice was slightly higher than usual, “A cold drop of rain just landed on my cheek and it shocked me.”

He looked up towards the sky, “The rain will be letting up soon and we will continue then.”

As he had said, a few minutes later, the rain stopped completely and they emerged from under the tall tree.

“How long will it take for us to reach the capital? It is a long distance,” Cahir asked when they stopped to eat a small meal as the sun was beginning to set.

“At the edge of the elven lands, we will receive dragons. After that, it will only be a few days to reach the capital.”

“Dragons?” Cahir choked on the bread he was eating.

“Yes, dragons, why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cahir’s voice was sarcastic as he swallowed his bread, “Just possibly the fact that I assumed we would get gryffins, but now we are riding fire-breathing, meat-eating, huge, scaly,” he paused, glancing at the ground, “armored animals.” He inhaled nervously, his face slightly pale then exhaled, blinking as if trying to clear his eyes of an image he didn’t wish to see.

After a few minutes, during which they all finished their food and picked up their sacks, Cahir spoke once again, “How far is it to the border?”

“We should reach it by sunrise, unless we are delayed again.”

“We are walking through the night?” Bixby asked.

“Yes, will that be a problem?”

“Are there not creatures that roam here?”

“There are creatures everywhere and they cannot help but roam the land they live on. We cannot control the will of nature.”

“What if we are attacked?” she flew to his side and landed on the soft ground, watching him.

“We will defend ourselves.”

“What if we cannot defeat it?” Cahir cut in.

“There is no creature we could not defeat, if we all fight together,” Alexandre looked pointedly at Cahir. They continued walking through the long, cold night, but were undisturbed by any creature that lived in the woods of the elves.

As Alexandre had said, they came into view of a small settlement as the golden sun rose over high ridges far in the east.

“We will rest here for however long we need, then continue our journey to the capital,” Alexandre paused before they entered a medium, two-story building, then opened the wooden door and strode in.

“Ah, Alexandre!” An elf greeted him, “I figured you would be here soon!” He stood up from his comfortable chair and his tall figure seemed to glow in the golden light streaming from behind the visitors. He had long, blonde hair and was garbed in a simple brown tunic. His green, almond-shaped eyes shone with kindness.

“Hello again, Ehren,” Alexandre smiled. “We are here to rest for the morning, then we will take the dragons.”

“That is also what I assumed,” he nodded, “But who are these two guests?” he smiled cordially..

“This,” Alexandre placed his hand on Cahir’s shoulder, “is Cahir. And this is Bixby,” he gestured towards the fairy and she waved.

“My pleasure,” Ehren knelt down and kissed her fair hand, then gazed into her purple eyes with a handsome grin.  

“Now if you will stop flirting with the companions I travel with, we can go rest.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. Right this way,” Ehren stood and directed them to three separate rooms.

All three laid down on the comfortable beds and were soon asleep.

It was nearly mid-afternoon before all three had woken up and eaten. After Ehren had provided them with a delicious meal, he led them out to a field where a half dozen dragons were roaming and munching away at raw piles of meat.

“Fabrizio! Ganya! Hanako!” Ehren called across the field and three dragons lifted their heads. At a wave of his hand, they rose into the air and flew swiftly over.

 
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