"What makes you say that?" Sara asked leaning towards her brother.

"These runes on his the blade of his sword," he pointed to the sword still in Sara's hands. "They are from the Forbidden Langue."

"What's wrong with that?" She asked, wishing she had had the school her brother was given.

Seth looked at his sister, "The Forbidden langue, the one that was outlawed for years now."

Sara nodded, remembering that her brother had once talked about this before.

Her brother continued, "It was made forbidden when our current king, was afraid of other beings being more powerful than he was himself. That's also why he banded elves from Lithuania. Not the smartest thing to do..." Seth thought of the war that had been ongoing for several years until last year. When the elves had mysteriously disappeared back to their homeland, even when they could have easily won.

The elf stirred in his sleep, some of this fingers twitching.

"But what makes you think he is an elf?" Sara asked lowering her voice, in an attempt not to wake him.

Seth pulled his dagger away from the elf's throat and stood. "Well, the symbols on his sword are part of the Forbidden Langue; most elves could control that langue from a very young age. It's what they believe as part of their heritage. And, well, the pointed ears are a dead giveaway." He looked down on the elf. "I should kill you," Seth sighed, placing the dagger on the floor near the elf, then taking the elf's blade from its sheath. "But I can't kill an unarmed person." He walked over and paced the sward on the table.

Sara screamed. Seth spun around to face the elf who was standing behind his sister, holding a knife to her throat.

The elf was warm, and shirtless. He had to be inside a building of some sort, someone had bandaged his pounding shoulder, which pulsed in time in his head. The last thing is really what worried him, a cold blade pressed to his throat. Pheilond kept his eyes closed.

"What makes you think he's an elf?" a girl's lowered voice asked right above Pheilond's head.

The dagger was pulled away from his throat, the elf tried not to sigh in relief.

"Well, the symbols on his sword are part of the Forbidden Langue; most elves could control that langue from a very young age. It's what they believe as part of their heritage. And, well, the pointed ears are a dead giveaway." A boy's voice said almost to it's self. "I should kill you," Pheilond stopped breathing. "But I can't kill unarmed person," the voice got farther away.

The young elf sprang to his feet taking the girl who, just happened to be a few feet away into a headlock stealing the knife the boy had left on the floor, placing it to her throat. The girl screamed, nearly shattering Pheilond's eardrums.

The boy whipped around, staring at Pheilond. With unpracticed and shaking hands the black haired boy pointed the elf's own blade at him.

"Let go of my sister or I'll kill you." The boy demanded his brown eyes staring intensely at Pheilond.

"You're really not in the position to make demands. If know so much about elvin heritage, then you'll know that elves are fast. I myself could probably kill both of you with in one of your human little heart beats." Pheilond said carefully watching the boy, he didn't really want to kill him. Rishnom had always told him never to under estimate your voice. Just because Rishnom wasn't teaching him any more didn't mean he had to forget what he had taught him.

The boy nodded, knowing that the elf was right. He lowered the sword still shaking in his hands. "You're on the run, that's why you're wounded and was sleeping in out barn, wounded. Someone must have found out. That's why you're so desperate."

Pheilond nodded slowly. "I mean you no harm-"

"If you mean us no harm then why are you holding a knife to my sister?"

"I-I…" Pheilond wondered what could have made him change some much just from two days ago. He shook his head, as if trying to find his old self. "I must go now. Just one question... Why didn't you kill me? You could have at any time before I woke up..." Pheilond loosened his grip on the girl. His green eyes staring intently at the boy.

"I don't know why... I just couldn't, I've never killed anyone before, why should I start now." The boy look down and away from the elf.

"My sword?" Pheilond asked looking from him to his weapon.

The boy, with his eyes still down cast pulled the sword off the table and handed the hilt towards the tall elf the same height as himself.

Pheilond tucked the blade back into his belt, then let go of the girl and pulled his tunic on from where the girl had left it on a chair, and then pulled on his jerkin. After adjusting his belt, which must have slipped down when they pulled off his shirt, he turned back towards the siblings. "I must go now." He repeated

"Before they find you?"

Pheilond answered him by a cold stare. He heard it before he saw it. One of the windows behind him shattered, Pheilond's head whipped around watching the arrow fly towards its target. Without thinking he dove for the girl, who had just barley looked up. With incredible speed he pushed her out of the way. They with the force he summed, it made it so they slammed into the wall at an imposable speed.

Under the stress the wall splintered, the whole house shook, priceless china roll off shelves and came smashing to the floor. Pheilond sat up, the boy stood silent, his mouth agape. Pheilond surveyed the damage.

Everything breakable in the entire house was broken. The wall, which they crashed into, had a huge dent and the girl... she was unconscious but other than that she seemed fine. Pheilond let himself wonder for a quick second if she would have been better off if the arrow had hit her.

"What exactly, just happened? And what did you do to Sara?" The boy stammered glancing around the destroyed room.

Pheilond pointed to the arrow logged in the wall where seconds earlier Sara had been standing. "It's a warning, they know I'm here. They think that you helped me. If they get to you they will kill you."

Dear Readers, (if I still have any...)

Long chapter, yay!

Magica Powers