AN: Read end of chappie for info on status of fic. (Though I doubt many will read that :P) Yes, I know its been a long time, and you probably thought this abandoned. Sorry!
Death is a moth that dances toward our inner flame.
The brightest fire can singe its wings.
Chapter 6: New Beginnings
Lord Andor Dail, Grand Duke of Dalandrin, watched quietly from the shadows of a dark corner of the room. He was concerned. The girl had not strayed far from this room since arriving in Dalandrin over three weeks ago. It was not healthy. She was wasting away, hardly eating, getting no exercise. Yet on the other hand, he could not deny her the right to grieve. Her love had not yet awoken. The healer tending the lad had reassured him that the boy was improving, health wise. However, the boy, Furos, if the name the girl, Ashaa, had given was to believed, still made no sign of awakening. His name however, was suspect. She had paused momentarily when asked it. Her body language had shown her to be unsure. Why would she give a false name?
The room was dark, night having settled over the castle an hour past. Only one dim torch burned in the sconces around the room, casting a flickering light across the pair who were the focal point of his attention.
The girl...her situation was understandable. The Nekmari raided many villages in south, many of which housed families of elves alongside humans. Her story was valid. The story she had given for the boy however...was questionable.
Who was he, that Nekmari commanders had deemed fit to assign guards to the caravan he was transported in. Normally such slave caravans were not deemed important enough to be assigned Nekmarin guards. The Eltans, human allies of the Nekmari to the south, constantly raided neutral lands, and the lands of human allies of the elves, capturing any they could to give to their dark masters. The Nekmari usually paid little heed to such caravans, unless they stopped coming. Normally the only times Nekmari accompanied the caravans was when they were transporting important messages from one commander to another along the way. In such a case, a few Nekmari guards would accompany them, with orders to burn the messages if it looked like they were going to fall into enemy hands.
He leaned back against the stone wall, arms crossed across his chest, as he studied the pair through narrowed eyes. So many unanswered questions. Oh, there was no doubt in his mind that the two were innocents. The use of Vveriss assured him of that. The Nekmari had wanted this boy dead, and they wanted him dead badly.
Which raised a further question. Vveriss was rarely used. It was too rare, too hard to produce. They used it only when they were trying to send a message. Targets whose deaths would hurt the morale and faith of the forces of light. It was a poison that was used to strike the hearts of soldiers and peoples of the light as much as the victim's body. Why for then, had they used it on the boy. Who was he, that he would warrant such a death?
Then too were the scars on his back. He recognized such scars. He'd seen it before, once. It raised many more questions about this young elf's identity.
He sighed softly, realizing that it would do little could to ponder on the identity of someone who may not even awaken. He opened his mouth, taking in a breath to speak out, to urge the girl once more to leave the room, to get some sleep and eat something- and stopped, the words frozen on his lips, as the young elf's eyes suddenly opened, and the torches around the room flared to life, burning bright and strong, filling the room with a warm light.
A lone eyebrow raised in curiosity, Andor gazed slowly around the room, studying the now burning torches, before looking back at the lad, who had eyes only for the girl, with appraising eyes. This was an interesting phenomenon. It could mean nothing, Andor told himself. Odds are it was nothing. A simple surge of random, undirected magic. On the other hand...
Harry woke slowly, looking around blearily. Ginny -'Ashaa' he thought fiercely- was gone. That was going to take some adjustments. He'd have to start calling her that mentally and thinking of himself as Furos just so they didn't make any mistakes.
Ashaa was gone, though he felt a brief mental caress that told him she was near enough to feel he'd awoken. He looked around and blinked in surprise to see the chair on the other side of him occupied, by an older elf, who was studying him calmly. He tried to sit up, but felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion flood him with the attempt, and lay back down, panting slightly.
"Don't try to sit up lad," the elf said. "Your life's no longer on the edge, but the effects of the poison are still there. You'll be as weak as a newborn kitten for some time. Don't strain yourself now, or you'll set back your recovery even more."
Furos closed his eyes briefly, cursing silently his own weakness, before looking over at the elf.
"Who are you?" He asked quietly, the words themselves taking a toll on his energy.
"My name is Andor Dail," answered the elf, "this is my home you're currently in."
There was a pause, then Andor spoke again.
"I know you're tired lad," Andor began, "but there's a few things I'd like to ask you, if I may."
Furos nodded slowly, already beginning to feel tired, just as Andor had said.
"So, first and foremost...do you know how long you were a prisoner for?"
Furos thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head negatively. Which, technically, was true, so he didn't have to feel like he was lying.
"Alright," Andor said, then nodding his head briefly. "You're turn."
Andor smiled briefly at the look of question the young elf's face.
"Well, it's hardly fair if I ask all the questions and you don't get to ask any. You have questions, no doubt, so we shall take turns to share information."
"Alright," Furos said after a brief pause, "where are we?"
"Dalandrin," Andor answered promptly, before going into a bit more detail. "My fortress, from which most military planning and staging is done for the North."
"Why is all that done here?" Furos asked, already beginning to feel more and more exhausted as the strain of remaining cognisant wore on his weakened body.
"Ah-ah-ah. Not your turn yet lad," Andor said, shaking his head. "My turn. If you could save a hundred innocent lives by sacrificing the life of one, would you do it?"
"No," Furos responded almost instantly. "I'd find a way to do it without sacrificing anyone."
Andor smiled then, and stood up.
"Good answer lad. Good answer. We'll talk more, you and I. For now, get some rest."
With that, Andor turned and left the room.
Ginny -Ashaa- she thought to herself fiercely, wandered the courtyard of the keep idly. Andor had told her she was free to roam, but there was only so much exploration that could be interesting. Now she wanted something to -do-.
The sounds of wood cracking against wood drew her attention to a long building to her right, with wide doors on one end. Approaching, she found it to be a training ground. A thin layer of straw littered the wooden floor, and benches along the sides allowed the score or more of young elves, about her age at a guess, to get a clear view of the combat going on in the centre.
Two elves were going at it, swinging wildly with wooden swords, trying to find an opening in the others defences. An older, barrel-chested elf with several large scars visible on his bare chest was watching critically, every so often breaking the two apart to comment on one or the others mistakes.
She approached quietly, trying to be unobtrusive, watching as the two elves fought. Both seemed equally skilled with the long wooden blades, and neither was really gaining any ground on the other. Ashaa found herself fascinated, watching as the instructor corrected footings, and angles of various attacks and stances.
"Stop!" The instructor said abruptly, and the two trainees instantly lowered their weapons, looking at their trainer expectantly. "Well done, both of you. Take a seat."
The two smiled faintly at the praise, passing their practice blades hilt first to their trainer, and taking a seat in an open space available on one of the benches. As they sat, several other elves patted them on the back and muttered words of congratulations. Evidently, from the looks of slight shock on some of the other faces, such positive praise from their trainer was rare indeed.
"You, girl!" Ashaa jumped in surprise and paled a bit to see the instructor staring directly at her, having noticed her watching during the duel. "What's your name?"
"Ashaa, sir," She replied nervously, stepping forward a bit, feeling more then a tad shy, having the eyes of all the trainees now squarely on her.
"Well, don't just stand there girl, come here," Ashaa nervously strode forward, stepping lightly across the straw covered ground.
"I'm Weapons Master Haras, and I believe you are the young lady brought in by the prince a short while ago, correct?" He asked, and Ashaa nodded silently.
"Very well then," Haras stated, "let's see what you can do hmm?"
She caught the wooden sword he tossed to her awkwardly, nervous grip tightening on the hilt. It was heavier then she was really comfortable with, and longer. It was clearly weighted to be the same weight as a real blade. Harry- no, Furos, she reminded herself mentally, had been giving her instruction, but having just seen the other two fight, she knew she was nowhere near that level.
The weapons master seemed to notice the awkwardness of her stance and grip, and mentioned it.
"Do you have any training with one of those?" He asked bluntly.
She swallowed nervously, shaking her head. "Very little sir," she felt like a tiny, insignificant child under his examining gaze.
"What do you have training with then?"
"Umm...bow a little bit, but daggers are the only thing I'd say I'm decent with, both melee and throwing," She answered truthfully.
He nodded, eyeing her up and down. "Aye, with your frame, you'd be good with them I'd imagine. Still, bows aren't all that useful in close quarters, and against a foe of greater strength and reach, daggers won't do you much good."
She nodded silently. Furos had said something similar at one point.
"However, we shall see what you can do," He began. "I wish to test your skill. Do whatever you can to do your best." He gestured briefly, and a group of trainees went to the weapons racks around the room and picked up a whole bunch of wooden practice swords, wooden axes, and other practice weapons, scattering them around the room, before returning to their seats.
"Sword up lass," Haras said calmly, raising his own, as she lifted hers up, nervously holding it with two hands.
"Now, defend yourself!" He yelled, and promptly attacked.
Ashaa immediately felt a shock jolt through her arms as the force of her trainer's first blow threw her to the ground, the practice sword getting torn rather painfully from her hands and falling to the ground nearby. She rolled away, getting to her feet, eyeing where the sword lay, halfway between her and the weapons master.
She dove for it, getting it into her hands but barely managed to get it up in time to block the swing of her opponents blade, once more sending hers skittering across the floor. She scrambled after it, but Haras's heavy boot kicked it away from her hand before she could close her fingers upon the grip.
She looked up to see him backing away, frowning. She stood up nervously, unsure of what to do.
"What mistake did you make?" He asked shortly.
"Um...I don't know sir," she answered meekly.
His eyes narrowed before turning to the trainees that were watching. "Well? Any of you know? What did she do wrong?"
There was a brief muttering from the benches before one elf stood up to answer.
"She chased the sword sir," the elf said.
"Explain yourself Eldryn," the instructor said, raising an eyebrow.
"Well sir, she kept trying to get the same sword back, both times you disarmed her," He said, and his voice gained in confidence at the sight of the trainer's nod. "The first time, when it was between you and her, it was still the closest weapon available, but there was little chance of getting it set to defend before you could have struck, as happened. The second time, the short sword over there," and here he pointed, at a shorter, lighter practice sword that lay near where hers had fallen. 'was closer to her, she should have gone for it instead."
The trainer nodded, pleased. "Good, correct," he said, turning back to Ashaa. "Girl, the most important rule is this. Don't get attached to your weapon. Especially if it's a weapon your not comfortable with. What should she have done?" He asked, once more turning to the trainees. Clearly, this was one of the methods to train them as well as her. Questioning them would see if they were learning too.
The same elf as before, Eldryn, answered. "Well, that sword is clearly too large and too heavy for her to fight with properly. If I were her, I would have probably thrown it at you, and dove backwards. There is a number of smaller, lighter swords in that area she would have been more suited to."
"Why throw the sword?" Haras asked, in a tone that clearly stated that the young elf had better have a good answer.
"Time, sir," came the reply, "even if you swatted it aside without flinching, that's still a second or two that gets me further from you, and closer to a weapon I can use."
Haras nodded, apparently satisfied. "Good," he said, before turning back to Ashaa. "Well girl, with that all in mind, lets try that again shall we? Keep in mind, any weapon is better then no weapon. Even if you just get it up in time to block a blow and get it knocked away, better to block the blow then not, hmm?"
Ashaa nodded, and reached down, picking up a smaller practice sword this time. She set herself, and nodded.
This time, she managed to dodge to the side of the first blow, and make an attack, stabbing her blade towards the instructor's stomach. However, Haras was apparently quite agile despite his large size and spun aside, bringing his own sword up hard against hers, the force of the attack disarming her once more.
She immediately forgot about that sword, and keeping in mind what had been said, dove to the side, getting her hands on a pair of short, but wide swords. She quickly rolled to her knees, bringing them up, blades crossed, in time to catch the downward swing of the weapons masters blade. She knew she didn't have the strength to keep his sword held like that for long, and sure enough, he pressed harder, and she felt herself losing her grip on the swords. Giving up on them, she rolled aside. She lost her swords in the manoeuver, but at least got out of range of his.
Her hand closed over the nearest weapon to her, a mace, which she held up nervously. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold it against a swing from his sword, he was so much stronger he could knock just about any one handed weapon from her hands without much effort. What she needed was something she could get two hands on, and properly brace to receive an attack.
Her eyes scanned the weapons littering the ground, as she slowly backed away from him, trying to keep as much distance between them as she could. There was a wooden axe on the ground to her right, one with a long handle she could hold with both hands, but she doubted her ability to use the weapon. The balance of it would be thrown off by the axe head, and she'd probably just fail miserably with it.
She regretted her momentary distraction almost instantly, as she looked back to see Haras charging at her, blade coming up quickly. She barely managed to get the shaft of the mace between herself and the wooden sword, but was still thrown back by the force of the blow. She landed hard on her back, and she rolled to the side, her hand brushing against wood that indicated another practice weapon.
Not even caring what it was, she gripped it tightly as she used the momentum of the roll to carry her to a low crouch. The weapon, which turned out to be a long, plain looking staff, came up with her, and she quickly got both hands on it, spreading them out a bit, and braced her feet to receive the follow up attack that Haras had already begun launching.
The wooden blade crashed down into the centre of the staff, but the way her hands were holding the staff the force of the blow was distributed evenly along its length, and she managed to keep her feet, only being pushed back about half a step.
Immediately, seeing an opening, she twisted, swinging one end of the staff upwards, forcing Haras to dodge backwards, and she felt a tiny thrill at having made him retreat, even a little.
She followed, feinting towards his legs with the bottom of the staff, before snapping it upwards, and only quick reflexes on his part kept him from getting hit hard in the side. He barely got his own sword up, blocking the blow.
Now however, his extra strength came into play, and he used the sword to shove the staff aside, then pushed forward, knocking her over onto her back. She fell, hard, and the straw on the ground did little to cushion her back when it hit. She had no doubt she'd have a bruise or two on her back the next day.
The weapon master stood over her, sword in hand, but with a slightly pleased look on his face. He nodded at her, before reaching down and grabbing her hand, pulling her to her feet. He then picked up the staff she'd used, and eyed it briefly before looking back at her.
"You ever use one of these before?" He asked gruffly.
She shook her head. "No sir," she answered.
He nodded, as though confirming a thought. "Did it feel comfortable to wield?"
She thought back to the way her hands had instinctively gone to grip the stave, and how it had just felt right when set her feet to receive his first blow. She nodded.
"Alright then," he said, tossing the stave back to her. "You did well with that, especially for your first time. That's what we'll train you up on."
She nodded, and as the adrenalin left her, she suddenly felt quite tired, and more then a little sore, as her body caught up with her.
"Take a rest lass," Haras said softly, looking at her with a look that showed just a hint of how impressed he had been with her first fight. She was fast, agile, and a natural with a staff, he could tell that right off. "Sit out the rest of today's lessons, but watch them. Stay behind after the rest all leave, and we'll figure out a training schedule for you. You're more then a bit behind the rest overall, but I have some time free in the evenings that I could spare to work with you, if you're willing to dedicate the time and effort towards learning."
Eyes wide, she nodded breathlessly, then sat back on one of the benches as he turned away, calling for another pair of trainees to take their place in the centre.
AN: Not sure what to say here really. I'd sort of abandoned the fic as you can all tell by it being over a year since I posted. I'd just...lost my will to write. And yet even then, I still was thinking about the plots and battles and events I had/have planned for later in this fic. I spent a while considering if I wanted to convert this from fanfiction into my own world, and make it into its own, not-harry-potter-based set of stories. I already sort of have maps for a fantasy world and ways to do it thought up. The only problem being the will to write it. I haven't really decided yet. Chosen could easy be written into 1 or probably 2 full paperbacks, if I decided to. Yes, I have just that many ideas. A whole world of battles and plans set up for it that I was gonna have to trim down. The problem would be setting up Return as its own story, breaking it from HP and having to write all the background stuff that would be necessary. Anyway, for now, I'll write this, while I plan that. If I do decide to pursue the standalone fiction thing, I'll at the very least announce this fic officially abandoned.