From Life to War to Life Again

Sitting in the back of a small pub, watching the customers come and go.  A drink in one hand, the other cupped over a small wound.  The barkeep watches uneasily as he tends to his other customers.  Whispers from the few more sober customers drift in the air.  Stories will spread swiftly, it is pointless to try and fight it with the truth, people will believe what they believe and they will not believe what I say.  The mead has cooled too much to be of any interest to me anymore, but I still clutch the mug tightly.  It seems to be my only hold on reality for the moment.

“Ya want a fresh on’ there?”  The barkeep, I knew it was only a matter of time before he approached me.  He reaches for the mug, his hand trembles.  “Ya ‘aven’t really touched much o’ that ‘ave ya?  Don’t’ca like it?  Want somthin’ else?”

“No.”  My voice quivers, but is still cold and void echoing the emptiness I feel inside.  “This one is fine.”

The barkeep bends down to look at me beneath my hood.  “Lady?”  He sounds slightly bemused as he speaks now, most of his uneasiness fled.  “Ya just a lil’ girl!”  His humor quickly fades as his eyes drift over me to the bloody hand I hold over the small wound on my side.  “Ya’r hurt!  Would you like me ta’ call…”

“No.”  Still my voice is unstable, but I manage to keep my point clear and brisk.  “I am well enough to wait for my company.”

“A’right.  Ya just let me know if ya want anythin’.”  With a last glance of mixed curiosity and pity the barkeep walks away muttering something about foolish children.

Soon another man, likely having heard the barkeep state my gender chose to approach my table.  “You look a bit lonely there, lass.”  I ignored him, hoping he would turn away.  “You’re a lil’ young to be lingerin’ ‘round a pub alone.”  He sat himself down in a chair not too far from me.  “You sure are a quiet one…”  A wondering hand found my knee.  

I turned to face him, a glare on my face that most would understand as disapproval.  “I care not for your company.”  I released my grip on the cold mug to shove his hand from my leg.  “Dare not to touch me again.”

“Woo hoo,” he laughed merrily at my boldness, “A spriteful one are you now?  Come on, no one likes to be alone.”  Again his hand wondered across the distance between us, this time brushing over my arm toward my shoulder.

Quickly he retreated once my cold mead rested now on him instead of in my mug.  “Do not touch me.”  I could feel my anger building again, my skin growing hot with battle.  “Leave me before you do something more foolish.”

“You’re the fool girl!  I’m just tryin’ to be nice to you and this is how you repay me?”  He waved a hand over the mess I had created as if to show it to the whole pub.  “You should be kinder child.”

“You should keep your space from me.”  Now that the mug was empty I found no use in holding it, so turned my freed hand toward where my weapon hid inside my cloak.  “Less I feel more ungrateful toward your…kindness.”  A few more stood around, having took interest in the scene.  “Your audience awaits your action.”  The anger and disbelief on the man’s face was well worth the goading, though I was truly unsure of my ability to fend him off should he take action.

“Stupid girl!”  He raged as he threw his chair from the table.  “I’ll show you to respect the kindness of your betters!”

“Lay one hand on her and regret it for the rest of your short life.”  The man that had just entered the pub stated rather calmly.  “You have no right.”  Tall and dark in his cloak stood the man I had been waiting for, Ar.  His name was actually much longer, and much harder to pronounce.  I had adopted the nickname Ar long ago and to date I don't even know if I remember his full name, or if anyone else does either for that matter.  Even he accepted the name and used it when introducing himself to others.  “Are you well?”  His question nearly missed me as I was more interested in the delayed battle between myself and the man considering this new turn in his odds.

“I am well enough to fight.”  I growled, though still that lingering doubt hung on.  I would not let this fool know I was in a less than battle ready state.  “It will only take a moment…”

“There is no need to do more battle tonight.”  Ar now stood between the offending man and I.  He stood a good foot plus over his head, and looked down on him as if his statement were more a warning to this man than me.  I knew he was aware of my doubt, Ar was the only one who could ever know just by being near me that I was not as ready for battle as I claimed to be.  “Come Akiva, we will leave now.”  He stayed between the man and I as if to keep me from attacking instead of leaving, but truthfully he was hiding my struggle to gain my feet from the pubs occupants.  “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”  The man sneered boldly.  It was obvious his actions now where purely for show.

Ar only laughed at the man, “Who said I was the one to be feared?”  With that, and me now on my feet, we left the pub and it’s occupants to wonder.  We walked quickly, too fast for me but I wouldn’t slow until we were long away from this place.  “You’re hurt.”

It was my turn to laugh.  “You have a knack for the obvious Ar.”  I pulled away my cloak to assess the wound for the first time since I had sustained it.  “Could I ask you to…” before I finished my sentence Ar placed his hand over the puncture and faint light glowed for a moment.  When he removed his hand the wound was gone, the only sign of it was the hole in my shirt and the blood that had spilt from it.  “Thank you.”

“You know you don’t have to ask me to heal you Akiva.”  Ar knocked back his hood fully revealing his elven ears and slim face.  I never did get tired of looking at his face.

I sighed, happy to be relieved of the pain.  “Can we go home now?”  I longed for my quiet home deeply, but I knew I would not return to it any time soon…but still I asked.

Ar only stood and picked up our pace again.  He hated to tell me no.  Even he wanted to return home.  There was just too much for us to do.  We often talked of returning back to our homes deep in the wilds and far from humankind when we had finished our duties.  Both of us doubted we would ever see our beloved hills again.  “Two days till the next town.  You don’t need anything do you?”

“Nothing that I can’t hunt out on my own.”  I twisted the ties on my cloak before I bothered to catch up with Ar.  It hardly mattered if we were two feet or twenty feet from one another, we could still carry on conversation.  “What are we off to do now?”

“A gate has been opened.”  He left it at that.  

I was struck dumb for a good amount of time before I stammered out a few words.  “That means…Its too soon!”  Ar only looked at me.  We both knew it was long over due.  I had begun to hope that it wouldn’t happen in this lifetime.  The war...

Some called it by some great arcane name that even I didn't understand.  To me it was simply known as war.  A great battle between two strong forces that would leave those in its path destroyed.  My goal, our goal was to help defend those who were stuck in the middle.  At least, that's what we said anyway.  It seemed that somehow things were not like that at all...

I only realized how far we had traveled when we were greeted by a small herd of Wild Horses.  Two stood on the road and the rest stood roadside grazing lazily on the fresh spring grass.  “Greetings Tras, Miff.  It’s been several days.”  I droned out the greeting, not really thinking about the words I spoke, the greeting was only custom.  

Tras was long and thin.  His coat was deep red with only hints of gray around his feet and frosting his back like winter snow.  A bold blaze of sliver spread from his nose into his mane and then suddenly quit about mid neck.  He had one black eye and one blue eye.  Many felt that he was evil, or eerie to look at, but Tras and I had been through Hell together and knew each other very well.  He was far from evil, impish maybe, but never evil.  

Miff, well, I didn’t know too much about her.  She tended to keep away from me when Ar was not around.  She was skittish and tender footed.  I really wondered why Ar continued to take her when we traveled, but to each his own I guess.  Her coat was pale, sometimes it appeared to be silver, and other times it was a faint tan.  Her eyes were both pale blue, hardly even colored at all.  One thing I could say about Miff…she could put a chill into the bravest man with only a brief glance.  I liked her okay, she never caused me harm and she took good care of Ar.  She did have her times when she would show herself off.  She was definitely proud.  Most likely that was why Ar liked her so much.  He admired pride and self-confidence.

Tras nudged me roughly when I didn’t pat his head as I usually did.  I looked up into his strangely dark eye.  I could see the thoughts that were turning in his mind, fear, worry, anger, determination...Tras knew it was here too.  The time had finally come and he was ready to carry me into battle, perhaps for the last time.



Rain.   Endless rain falling from an ever darkening sky.  Usually I loved the rain and wanted it to fall forever, but this rain was cold and full of smells of death.  My cloak, though blessed to resist the rain had become cold against my skin.  I glanced over at Ar wondering if he were as uncomfortable as I was, if so, he didn’t show it.  Miff however looked completely miserable.  Her main was soaked to her skin and mud caked her legs nearly all the way up to her belly.  I was sure Tras was in much the same condition.  It wouldn’t matter if we stopped to clean off the mud and muck, it would only return the moment we set out again.  With a sigh I settled into the soft saddle and attempted to rest.  I would have guard duty tonight and I needed rest.

“We should reach the gate soon.  This rain is full of its energy.”  Ar’s voice held all the weariness he didn’t show.  “We will stop before we get there and rest.”