Blood and Tears
And Excerpt from Elf Journey

There was a sound in the forest, the definite sound of creatures sneaking, dark and deadly creatures that should not be sneaking anywhere near the village. Deadly creatures, small goblins with leathery hide's, taller hairy gnolls and possibly. . .Yes, that was the sound of a Taint wolf. And Rowan, the prince of the cursed Dark Elves could not be happier. His skin felt hot, and a smile slowly spread across his tanned face.

The elf felt the rush of the wind, and the occasional whisk of a leaf against his face, but he made not a sound as he approached the too-loud trespassers. He heard a grunt, and he launched himself into a tree, grabbing a low branch and swinging himself up onto it. He froze as several grunts followed, it sounded like the guttural goblin language. Twigs cracked and leaves brushed together. The animals had gone quiet, but one of the darklings must have disturbed the hiding place of a rabbit, for it gave a screech as it darted out and was stabbed by a cruelly crafted spear. Thud- thud. His heart picked up its pace again, and he swallowed down an unnatural rage.

"Jus' a rabbit." One of them remarked, and was hit by another. Thud-thud, thud-thud. Could they hear it? His palms felt slick on the hilts of his blades, and he dared not breathe. They were below him.

" 'Suposed to be quiet!" Another voice growled, but they were both silenced by a low growl. All eyes turned to the Taint wolf. Standing at three and a half feet at the shoulders, the Taint wolf was small for its breed. Needle- like hairs stood straight up on the back of his neck, and its head tilted upwards, sniffing. Lowering its head again, it growled louder. The dog- faced gnolls took up their arms. Show time.

"Tiiiiiyyyahhhh!" Rowan cried shrilly, the haunting battle-cry sending the goblins into a panic, and the gnolls screeching in pain. The dark elf dropped straight down like a stone in the water, his boots landing on one of the tall gnolls' shoulders. Shoving off, the elf's twin blades swung free, singing like maidens as they sliced through the leather armor of two goblins. He landed in the middle of the bunch, his heart pounding. The trespassers were aware now. Blades sung and metal clashed. Blood splattered the leaves, and animalistic grunts and shouts filled the still night. Things seemed in slow motion for the battle-happy Rowan, and a cruel smile twisted his features as he hacked away callously at the leathery and furry hides of his enemies.

The sound of metal clanging together became one sound as he faced off with the best of the warriors, a gnoll that stood a good foot above his own 6'. The speed of the animalistic darkling astounded the elf, when he noticed the black tattoo on the beast's chest. There was a growl behind him, barely enough warning for Rowan to duck before the Taint wolf lunged at his back. The beast crashed into the gnoll, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground. Pulling the bow from his back, the elf fixed an arrow and shot quick as lightning. The gnolls death cry was sweet music to Rowan's ears. But the wolf had dodged. Standing, Rowan closed his eyes and concentrated hard on sound. Blood dripped from the leaves and bushes around him, and a goblin stirred hopelessly, just as one of the gnolls fingers twitched and clutched at the ground, a gurgling sound spilling blood from its canine mouth. Nothing. . . focus. . . silence. . . He turned to his right, blades up, and his violet eyes widen.

Dull pain erupted in his shoulders as claws dig in past the leather armor, and his breath was stolen by the hard impact of the ground. His right arm jerked as his blade hit bone, but the other sunk true. Inch long teeth hovered in front of his face, bluish saliva dripping from them, and he glared into the glowing green eyes boring into his.

"Kilvec. . . din talois." He uttered softly, gagging on the foul beast's breath as he twisted his left blade. The Taint wolf jerked, the glow fading quickly from its eyes. It gave one last growl before it fell heavily on him. His racing heart began to slow, and his skin cooled rapidly, bringing the dark elf back to awareness. The claws still in his skin began to sting, then burn like acid and throb with his pulse. Hot tears stung his eyes as he realized what had happened.

He's lost control again, the thrill of the hunt had brought about his wretched race's curse of bloodlust. He was glad the fiends were dead, but he wondered if he had toyed with them long. . . With his battle rage gone, the pain was becoming overwhelming, and the weight of the beast was immense for his frail figure. With a grunt, he shoved with all his strength, stopping to cry out brokenly when the act caused the pain in his shoulders to intensify. He had only managed to shift the wolf, and he couldn't breathe very well. The tears slipped down the sides of his face, wetting his blood-clotted hair. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, of course. Keilern, his adopted father would have scolded him for it and forbidden him to go. His brother Leitalis he had left at home because he knew that the younger elf could not manage a sword any better than he could walk on water.

And that left him here, hours from the village, with three inch claws hooked into the flesh of his shoulders, and a dead weight-certainly no pun intended-on his chest. And he was crying like a woman. Leitalis would laugh. He felt like laughing, and probably would have if he had the breath. Dying like this, under the stinking carcass of a Taint wolf. . . what would his father say now? Not Keilern, but his blood father. What would She say. . . The tears increased, and he closed his eyes tightly, shoving with all of his might, his voice cracking as he cried out, his vision going white with pain. But the body shifted again, and slid off the elf to lie beside him. There was a sick squish as the talons pulled free of his left arm, and he clenched his teeth tight, grunting as he shoved to free his other shoulder as well. The effort left him panting and covered with a cold sweat, his face against the cool dirt. Poison. . . the Taint wolf's claws were said to contain the venom of a hundred black snakes. . . and he felt his arms growing colder as they became numb. He couldn't feel the hilts of his swords he was clutching, embedded in the chest of the beast.

"Gods. . . Father. . . " Now he spoke of Keilern again. "Please. . . I'm sorry, I'm. . . so sorry. . ." He sniffed, beginning to pant. Sweat and blood soaked his clothes, and his skin felt so cold that his tears burned like boiling water on his face. "I lost. . . I did it again. . ." His eyelids felt heavy and his head felt dizzy, but he fought the urge to close his eyes. A sound caused his ear to twitch, but he couldn't turn his head. Maybe he had missed a goblin, maybe it would end his life before this venom did, and remove some of his shame. He closed his eyes now, and waited for the blade. But it didn't come. Instead, he heard a voice. He felt a sudden floating sensation, but he couldn't open his eyes. He was gasping for each tortured breath, fire filling his lead-heavy lungs. His head jerked back, pain lacing his shoulders. He could feel something faintly, like feathers brushing his skin. His eyes fluttered, but all he could see was blackness. Something soft and warm pressed against his forehead, and then he choked as something blocked his passage of air. Liquid. . . Water? His body jerked again with spasms of pain, but something was holding him still. He felt the trickle of liquid again, but his throat felt tight. Panic was creeping over him, he couldn't breathe!

Then something warm and wet covered his mouth, and the ice-cold liquid slipped down his throat. He took a fresh breath, amazed at the relief he felt. He managed to gulp down another breath before his mouth was covered again. He swallowed gratefully this time, hearing himself give a sob of liberation. Someone was helping him, someone was forcing him to drink the sweet icy liquid that cleared his throat and lifted the weight from his lungs. He heard his name through the jumble of rushed melodic voice that flooded his ears, and all he could do was sob. The medicine was given to him twice more before he could breathe freely. He was ashamed, covered in blood and tears as he was, to be rescued like this.

He felt he was floating again, and he could feel his fingers clutch at the soft cloth of a shirt. He buried his face into his savior's neck, and received no judgment as he sobbed freely.

There was something cold and wet on his forehead, and it felt so impossibly good. . . Violet eyes fluttered open, to meet the blue eyes of his foster mother Illuthea. He winced, averting his eyes but her soft hands took his face, turning it back to her.

"No, no, let me see." She said softly. She stared into his eyes for a moment before she sighed in relief and let his face go. "Your eyes have regained their sanity." She told him as she took the cloth from his head and wet it again, replacing it. "The fever was strong, but thanks to my medicine you're going to be fine." She beamed with motherly pride, and Rowan flushed with shame.

"Forgi-"

"Hush!" She said, waving her hands.

"Thank-"

"Don't thank me. . . Keilern is the one who gave you the medicine in time. He followed you, you're a foolish boy to think a Wood elf could not track you." She chided, standing and placing her hands on her small hips. Her long golden braid glittered in the bright sunlight coming in through the window. "I almost lost my heart when I saw him carry you inside, then he told me most of the blood wasn't yours. . ." She frowned at the pain in her son's face. "The men of the village want to thank you, my Dark One. . ." She said softly. Rowan turned away. She didn't understand. . .only one person would, and he-

"Is he awake?" An curious voice asked. Illuthea turned to face Leitalis and smiled.

"He's fine, but-"

"Rowan you stingy deer's ass! Running off to fight the darklings and not taking me!" The tan skinned elf walked into the room. He was tall like his brother, only Rowan's body had the toned physique of an elven warrior, while Leitalis had the slender body of a youth. Rowan doubted his brother would ever be a warrior, and had told him several times to his little brother's dismay. They both had the tan skin of their race, and raven black hair, only Leitalis's eyes were a deep blue, like the midnight sky. Illuthea placed a hand on Leitalis' shoulder and shook her head, and the younger elf gave her a pout.

"You. . . would have been dead in a second." Rowan replied sleepily. Leitalis shouted a few dark elven words at him that his mother couldn't scold him for when another voice intervened.

"What's this racket in my house?"

Rowan stiffened, and Leitalis quieted. "Nothin' father." He replied sheepishly. Illuthea sensed the tension and shooed the younger dark elf out of the room, giving her husband a kiss before leaving herself. Keilern was tall for a wood elf, reaching 6'1''. His slender body was pale, and toned as a warrior, while still lithe as any elf was bound to be. His light brown hair was straight save the three small braids on the right side of his head. The silence seemed a physical thing, and he pulled a stool over to the side of the bed, placing his hand on Rowan's shoulder, not surprised when he felt it jerk.

"Rowan, I'm not angry."

"Yes you are." The dark elf replied softly.

"I am not. I was worried, I admit it made me angry that you made me worry, but in the end I am glad that you're safe."

"I lost it."

"I know."

"I promised, you promised the Lord Heiuflu I wouldn't. . ."

"They don't know." There was another silence, and Rowan rolled over to face his father, tears in his eyes, and his face red.

"You kissed me." He said with a slight smile.

"I gave you medicine, you insolent whelp." Keilern smiled back, brushing some of Rowan's raven colored bangs out of his face. The Dark elf took the hand and kissed it.

"Thank you. . .Father."

"Don't thank me yet, Rowan. Illuthea still wants to scold you."

"You should have left me to the venom."