Chapter 4

By the gods…such pain. Nobody should have to go through such pain. It didn't seem possible that he was only stabbed in the abdomen. His body burned as if on fire.

Morry knew he was bleeding, probably profusely, but he couldn't stop it; he couldn't move and it was all it took from him not to make anymore noise. Something about escaped slaves always kept them, in general, silent. Their noise was the enemy only because everybody trusted or not, was listening.

But what would Morry have Saric do? A vow of silence? Unlikely. Saric's laughter, his speech in general, was like a blessing from Kalaitir, the God of Elves, himself.

Saric…his baby…by the gods…why?

How could Jenova taken Saric away from him? Promise or no, Saric was his baby and he'll be damned into all nine levels of hell before anyone that isn't him fathers Saric! The half-elf felt a pang of pain, both in his chest and in his body, but he resisted the urge to cry out again.

He eyes felt heavy now; the darkness was calling him, bidding him to sleep. And he wanted to, how he really wanted to, but something kept him back. It was just so tempting, the darkness' song. The song of death and at the same time the song of life, where a mother from the heavens is coaxing you to sleep. You knew you did the right thing when you heard it.

Rest

Tomorrow is another day

Another time.

Sleep

The world has yet to live again

Sleep my child

Innocents

Have not seen this world's

Troubles…

The troubles the world may bring you…

The troubles of today

So let the darkness' song

Take you over

Let it sing sweetly

Until thee are asleep

To dream happy dreams

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Jenova stepped quietly through the shadows. He would do as he promised. But first, he had to go to the Elvan village he had taken a liking to.

But pain filled eyes glittered his mind like the stars. He didn't want to stab Morry, really he didn't, but the price of freedom isn't that high when you're sure that the one you love like a brother isn't going to die.

But it wasn't like Jenova could tell Morry that…not yet

Jenova, being friendly with the elves as he was more trusting than Morry about things like this, had set up a deal with the elves. He remembered this forest, Morry passed by it often, and during one of those times he had gotten himself sick. The elves there helped him, bringing back to health. At first he was just as suspicious of the elves bringing him to their village because he had heard Morry's story about his father taking both Morry and Morry's mother into slavery. And he had hated his elvan heritage. But time went on, and Jenova found that he could trust them. But being who he was he always kept to himself often.

One of the elves that Jenova had befriended was a wizened old elf that had the power to take off the necklace and he had offered it. Jenova had to refuse. He had other things to worry about first.

So they made a deal. Jenova told the priest his predicament and both agreed that when Morry next went to the forest people would be hurt, people would be healed, and hopefully Jenova and Morry would be free, though on the run, together.

Then Saric came into the picture. And Jenova wouldn't let a child see the lifeblood of his father flow while he had the power to do so.

So he had gained Saric's trust, albeit faster than he had thought, had taken him to the village for care…

He just hoped that Morry didn't hate him for this.

But, at last, the two of them were free.

There was just one problem though. The priest Jenova had befriended happened to be the very one that kept Morry from seeking the Elves in the first place…

Morry's father…

"Don't hate me Morry," Jenova thought with a heavy heart, "I only did what was best…"

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The elvan man looked at the sleeping form of Saric lovingly. A grandfather…he was a grandfather! Such a precious thing, no less from his oldest son was something of a gift from Kalaitir himself. He'd wanted to for forever to get the chance to meet him. The elderly elf didn't know his firstborn's name and it was only when the young elf Jenova, by being so young and naive, yet so talented at what he did, told him that he knew a half-elf that looked similar to him. After earning Jenova's trust, he bid tell about Morry's story. And he found it similar to his firstborn's.

The older elf smiled Morry…that was his son's name. He had wanted so much that child's forgiveness ever since he had given him and his mother away. He rued that day and wished it had never happened.

So he had made the deal with Jenova. And by Kalaitir, he would stand by it!

Zelire again looked at the precious child in front of him with his thumb in his mouth. It reminded him of his second wife and children. Yanna had died years ago though. Toran and Chilel, his twin boys, were away too. Then there was Kistra, his youngest and his only daughter was sleeping with a family friend to make room for both Saric and Morry when he came. He loved them all deeply, but he always felt a part of him gone ever since that day…

Zelire was startled out of his reverie when shouting was heard from the outside of his door, angry that all the commotion would probably wake Saric up, he rushed to the door. When the banging started, he ran to open it.

"We've got the firstborn," one of the elves cried out just as Zelire opened the door with such speed that the knob hit the oaken wall with a bang, "open--!"

Zelire took one look at the face of his boy and willed himself not to pale. "Take the child out and put Morry on the bed," he ordered.

The elves nodded, grim faced. Moving inside to get out of the way, Zelire prepared to save the one he cast away…

"Get me the herbs in the jar. Mash them together with water and give me the juice," Zelire told one of three elves. He then turned to the other two with big, worried gray eyes.

"Hold him down if somehow he wakes," he ordered the two, "keep him still, the juice is going to burn." He looked at the apprentice coming over to give up the green juice. He took it and closed his eyes, palm on the lid of the jar, saying a prayer to bless the healing substance.

"Hand me a rag," he barked opening the jar. The first of the apprentices left and came back right away with a pure white rag in hand.

Opening the jar, Zelire began to heal Morry's wounds…

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Morry groaned when he had awoken. He couldn't help it, his head hurt and his mind was fuzzy, but he didn't want to open his eyes. He heard the laughter of children outside, and that made him give a small smile to himself, but then he heard the sound of men talking seriously in the other room. He didn't know what they were talking about, but it was the only thing that brought him from his state of semi-consciousness.

Sky blue orbs flew open unseeingly. He sat up straight or at least tried to as he ended up reaching and grasping his arm across his bare stomach where his abdomen was in pain. When the pain subsided, the half-elf slowly got himself out of the bed and, what he thought was silent, padded his bare feet on the wooden floor.

He still couldn't see, and he tripped when he couldn't find the wall. The talking stopped for a moment and then continued as if nothing had seemed to happen.

Morry was almost in a panic now: being blind was never a good thing. He wanted out and into the safety of the outside world. He wasn't here to become some spoiled brat's birthday present. He was not going to live his life like that again. That… and the fact that Jenova still had Saric…

Saric…

Someone had opened the door; Morry could feel the sunlight through the window of the house he was in.

"Well shit," he cursed and then swayed. A cold hand stopped him, and the half-elvan male heard the loud footsteps of a small child running away. It was just now that he realized that the laughter had dissipated and could no longer be heard.

"You should be resting Morry." Heard one of the men's voices and realized that one of them had been him all along. Anger surged through him. What was this? How could he? He had no right!

"Traitor," Morry gasped. The hand, now relatively warm, gripped his shoulder tighter and kept the elder half-elf at bay while the younger spoke.

"You didn't actually believe that I would intend to keep a child away from his father, would you?"

This, it seemed, to put the brunette at ease. Strained muscles that showed upon the half-elf's bare torso relaxed. It was when Morry swayed again that Jenova realized the elder half-elf had over exerted himself in panic and in pain. Jenova picked Morry up and replaced him on the bed. Taking a chair and turning it so that he could rest his head atop the back of the chair as he sat, Jenova closed his eyes and whispered, "We'll talk later."

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