The sun was just above the horizon, illuminating the waves with a golden light. It would soon fall behind the sea, and Tytus would have to set a fire. He shifted in the chair he brought from the safehouse. Cristomir laid on the ground next to him, in a light sleep. The air was cold and nipping at him, causing him to shiver in his armor. The sky was cloudy, large puffy gray clouds slowly moving above them. The doors to the castle were slightly shut, a small creek between them. Tytus could see Jorden in the far distance. He wasn't able to make out any building or person, but could see the large, brown landmass. He yearned for it. He yearned to be back in the barracks and the training yard, accompanied by his brother rangers. He just wanted out of this horrible nightmare. To his right, Cristomir sat up from his resting place. He rubbed his eyes and stood up. He clutched his chest as his ribs screamed in pain, causing him to grunt.

"Easy," said Tytus. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," said Cristomir through gritted teeth.

"You don't look fine. You could've just stayed with the others."

"And what? Leave you out here all by yourself with no company?"

"You've been asleep the entire time!" Tytus chuckled, and it was the first time he had done so in a while.

"Oh piss off."

The sun had begun to dip behind the ocean, signifying the end of Tytus' shift. He would let Miles know it was his turn.

"Come on. Our times up. Lets head on back and tell Miles."

"Alright then...do you...do you mind giving me a hand?" said Cristomir, who struggled with taking one step.

Tytus shook his head. "Fine." He put Cristomir's arm over his shoulder. They slowly walked through the doors and down the hall. They passed through the room with the grand, glass mural and into the grand corridor. The shuffled to the small hallway on the left and to the blocked entrance. Tytus lifted the case as high as he could as Cristomir slowly and painfully hobbled through. Miles stood from his chair, which Cristomir took, and held the bookcase as Tytus crawled under.

"How are things? Any news?" Tytus asked Miles.

Miles stared at Tytus, dreading to have to tell him of the recent events.

"Um...we found Aryanne."

"Good," said Tytus.

"But...we lost...we lost Danticus," he said, his voice soft enough so only Tytus could hear.

Tytus' mouth dropped open. "No...no, not again...you, you're lying to me," he said, getting louder with each phrase.

"I'm sorry...I don't know what to say."

"Tytus, what's going on?" said a worried Cristomir.

Tytus repressed his punch something. It was what he did when was angry, when he was upset. "Your cousin is...he's," he struggled trying to find the words to say to Cristomir. "He's gone," he said at last.

Cristomir shut his eyes tight. He dropped his head as far as his bruised and broken ribs would let him. He silently wept for his fallen brother.

"What happened?" asked Tytus, quite loudly.

"Aryanne said he, that magic here killed him...you'll have to ask her for more information."

Tytus eyed Aryanne from across the room, who sat next to a healthy, restored Valyn. They were talking silently, conversing among each other. He left Miles and quickly and ominously walked towards Aryanne. He stopped in front of her, his hands curled into fists at his side.

"What happened to Danticus?" he asked, quite sternly.

"He's dead. I'm sorry warrior, I tried to save him but-"

"Bullshit," said Tytus, cutting her off.

Valyn jumped to his feet and put himself between Aryanne and Tytus. He refrained from summoning his magic, but wouldn't let this pig headed warrior speak to his sister in such a way.

"You heard her...she tried to help him...he's dead, there's nothing we can do about it," said Valyn.

"He dies right after your uncle does...and we have no proof as to how or what happened. Just your sisters word."

"Tytus, I swear, I tried to save him. But the magic within the chamber conflicted with mine."

"Then take me to this chamber, so I may see if you are telling the truth."

"You'd die just like Danticus," she said. "It's not meant to be entered by men. Tytus, you don't know how deeply I cared for Danticus."

Tytus laughed. "We've been here for four days. What kind of relationship could you have formed? Did your uncle court you to him to secure some alliance."

Aryanne stared at him with pleading eyes. "He kissed me. He protected me when we were alone. He slept by me and held me in his embrace. And I barely knew him. He did all that for me, me, a creature that he'd been told throughout his whole life was evil. So yes, we formed some sort of relationship...but...now he's dead...and thats all there is to it."

Tytus stared at her for moments. He was unsure if he believed her or not. She sounded sincere. And her and Danticus were alone together for some time. He would have to take her word for it as of right now. He had more important things to do than to start conflict with Aryanne and her brother.

"Okay then...I apologize," said Tytus.

"I too," said Aryanne.

"Alright then...Miles?" he said, calling the warrior.

"Sir?"

"Your shift."

Miles nodded and headed to the bookcase, lifting it and exiting. The bookcase fell to the floor as he went to take his watch. Tytus had left the elves in their corner to speak with Cristomir, who was being comforted by Jazmyn.

"Are you alright?" Tytus asked him.

"No," Cristomir simply replied.

Tytus knelt beside him. "I'm so sorry, Cristomir, believe me. But I need you strong. I need you to help me get the rest of these people out of here. There has to be a way and I need you to help me find it. Please...help right now. You're my second in command," said Tytus.

Cristomir rubbed his raw, tired eyes. He nodded and he and Tytus shook arms. He winced at the pain in his chest after doing so.

"Here, let me ask Aryanne if she can help you," said Jazmyn.

Cristomir nodded. Jazmyn stood up and called Aryanne.

"Yes?" The elva answered.

"Can you help Cristomir, please? His ribs are in bad condition."

Aryanne glanced at Valyn, who nodded. "Of course," she said, standing. She approached Cristomir, who sat in pain atop the chair. She lightly placed her hand on Cristomir's chest, who winced in the anticipation of it all. He calmed down and let Aryanne's wisps of light magic circulate through his chest, healing the cracks and bruises that plagued his chest. Immediately, he felt better. Aryanne lifted her palm from his newly restored torso and smiled. Cristomir sat up straight and took in a deep breath. He exhaled joyfully.

"Thank you," he said. He only wished her magic could heal his thoughts. Tytus patted him on the shoulder and Cristomir smiled.

"There now. There's something we need to discuss."

"What?"Asked Cristomir.

"The Scrag."

Cristomir felt as if the room dimmed upon those words. Just the mention of his name was enough to invoke fear within his heart.

"What about...it."

"If the opportunity does present itself, and we may escape, we need to be damn sure that thing doesn't stop us or claim another life."

"Tytus...if it comes down to it, I'll face that beast myself," said Cristomir.

"Like shit you will. I'm not going to let that monster take you away from Jenna and your child. If someone must distract the Scrag, it will be me. I want a rematch."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," said Jazmyn.

"Indeed. We must be quick. Don't bother bringing any of the supplies either. If a ship does come, we won't need them. Jorden will be awaiting us."

"I can't wait to see her again," said Cristomir.

"Me neither, friend. Me neither."

Aryanne and Valyn retreated to their corner. They sat there silently, Aryanne hoping to avoid the topic of Danticus. She regretted her decision immensely, but knew she could do nothing now. What's done is done.

"Aryanne...what happened? With...with that man, Danticus," said Valyn, finally asking the question he so wished to ask.

Aryanne looked him in the eyes. "I told you...he died," she said sternly, in a way that implied to not ask her again.

Valyn ignored her tone and continued anyway. "Aryanne, this man killed our uncle. I must know what happened to him. How did he truly die, what is this chamber you speak of?"

"Valyn, you are to never speak to me of this again. Do you understand me? Do not bring up Danticus, that chamber, our uncle, Valadel or those morbid cursed ones again. Ever again. I wish to never relive the events of what happened here."

"Aryanne, you can't just ignore the past thousand years of your life, Zennel preserve you! By the Allmother, you're what, just going to go to this place the men speak of and never discuss your past?"

"What's in the past is in the past, Valyn."

"And those who forget it are destined to relive it. Aryanne, please do not be this ignorant! What happens when our race is restored and they learn nothing from our-"

"Valyn, please stop...I will not ask you again." She gritted her teeth and felt a storm brew in her eyes.

Valyn finally took the hint and dropped the topic. "Sorry. I just...I don't understand why you refuse to tell me."

"It is not for you to understand...it is something my shoulders must bare, no one elses."

"Fine...so be it."

"Thank you," Aryanne said exasperated.

They sat there in silence. Once Aryanne no longer seemed irritated, Valyn asked a question that had long been on his mind.

"Aryanne...what do you think is going to happen once we get to the place the men speak of, this Jorden? What do you think will happen. Do you think they'll keep us in some special castle or will they study us, examine us. Does it excite you? Does it frighten you, even just a little bit?"

Aryanne didn't answer. She kept her gaze fixed on the flame from the torch. It reminded her of her uncle, not just for his magical ability, but the personification of fire he was. Warm, practical but dangerous if need be. She missed him. Finally, she felt the obligation to answer her brothers question.

"I don't know Valyn...and honestly, I couldn't care less what happened anyway."

"What do you mean? Aryanne, do you hear yourself?"

"Yes Valyn. Do you really think there's a chance for the elven race to come back? How? There are only two of us," She said, forming the number with her fingers. "And what makes you think they'll want to restore us? They all think we're monsters. Just like the cursed ones."

"We are nothing like the cursed ones! What makes you say all of this? You know this is not what uncle would want."

"He wasn't just our uncle, Valyn! He was our father. How are you so quick to forget? All you seem to care about is going to this place and living out some fantasy like the one Danticus promised."

Valyn breathed in an angered manner, short and rapid. He was so taken back by his sisters words he knew not how to respond. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing! You know I loved our uncle with all of my heart, how could you possibly doubt that!"

Aryanne stared to shed tears. "Just...just leave me be. Please just go."

Valyn did so without hesitation. He stood and stormed to another corner, silently fuming. Aryanne ignored him. She wished not to be bothered by anybody. She just wanted to be alone with herself. The events that plagued her surrounded her like a darkness, and she was without a light. She knew not what would happen to her and Valyn in the kingdom of man. She didn't know if the men would keep them safe for repentance or kill them out of fear. She didn't want to think about it.

She yearned for the time her uncle would tell her and a young Valyn the stories of historical elven figures and legends by a fire he had created, nibbling on the fish he caught that day. She found it funny how all this time, when the men came and found them, she dreamed of leaving and finding a new place to call home but now, she wanted the life she had before with her uncle. But all the praying in the world wouldn't bring him back.

*****

(Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you think! Sound off in the comments! Your feedback is always appreciated!)