Despite the slight ache in her ribs, Edileth still moved with the grace and ease of several years of practice. She lunged and leapt across the darkened cavern, her drills growing in speed and complexity as her muscles unwound.

The routine overtook her and now she was moving instinctively. Nothing else existed in the moment. Edileth slid and ducked, attacking an imaginary foe. She jumped back, swung high, countered low. Soon the cavern was filled with her heavy breathing.

Faster and faster her blade cut through the dark. She turned bringing her sword low–

–and was met with a clash. Jonenek held his own weapon firm, a wide grin on his face. "Shall we spar?" Light twinkled in his eyes. "I imagine you would love a chance to attack me."

He backed away and began circling her. She watched his movements for a moment, poised for attack, knees slightly bent. He continued to circle, as if expecting her to make the first move. When he realized she was content to wait, Joenek darted forward with a taunting jab. He whirled around and struck at her side.

Idiot. Edileth parried the blow and moved out of reach. She waited again.

Their sparring continued in this manner. Edileth kept on the defensive, responding to Joenek's attacks with a parry or feint.

"Can't you fight anymore?" Joenek taunted, clearly tired of her defensive approach. "What happened to the fiery rothnak? Why do you not attack me?"

"The most important lesson one should learn is how to let the enemy defeat himself."

Joenek lunged forward, assaulting her with another barrage of swordplay.

But Edileth was ready to strike. They had circled each other to just the right position. Now, she feinted forward. Just as expected, Joenek parried up with a backward leap. He did not notice the rubble at his feet.

Joenek stumbled, the smug grin quickly wiped from his face. Edileth darted forward and shoved the hilt of her sword against his shoulder.

She chortled, satisfied, at the muffled thud as Joenek's head tapped the floor. "You see. You have been defeated by your own arrogance and folly."

She extended a hand and helped Joenek stand. He dusted off his breeches and grinned.

"If you wish to best your enemy, Joenek, you must first know him – or her, as the case may be."

"Well done, dear girl," Torben hollered from the entrance of the alcove. "I could not have made a truer statement."

Edileth grimaced as she realized her sparring match with Joenek had been observed by the others."You may have bested me in swordsmanship, but I'd like to see you try to beat me at Daindreken," Joenek retorted.

Edileth cringed at the thought. Daindreken was a hand-to-hand form of fighting from the country of Jemmik. This fighting often ended on the ground, in a wrestling match of sorts. "I think not. I would rather have my sword between us."

A smile crept onto Joenek's face. His gaze drifted over Edileth's body. She tightened her grip on the sword. Surely Feridh would not fault her for gouging out Joenek's eyes.

Edileth shook away the thought and stormed back into their main alcove, thoroughly repulsed. She ignored Joenek for the rest of the evening.

The others soon joined her. Torben settled close to the fire, eyes on the entrance.

"We're staying another night?" Joenek's voice echoed from the once-door.

Torben nodded absently. "I am greatly troubled. Celik and Marrik should have arrived by now."

"We cannot leave without them," supplied Yena. "We shall have need of their skills."

"Yena speaks the truth. Yet with each day that passes, our chance of success dwindles. If they have not arrived by mid-day on the morrow, we must depart without them." When Yena started to protest, Torben continued, "We shall leave a message for them; Rikku can help there. Though I pray it does not come to such a thing."

Edileth was glad they would be leaving soon. She thought she might go mad if she were stuck in the cavern-town for much longer. While the caves were spacious and provided ample lighting during a sufficient portion of the day, there was an undeniable gloom hanging in the air. Thick, doleful curtains of it clung to the stones.

It was her turn to keep watch when she sensed them. Two figures, lurking deep within the belly of the mountain.

Edileth stepped around Yena's sleeping form and exited their niche for the ruins, creeping further and further from the flickering light of their fire. Only once she was on the edge of the forgotten town did she unsheathe her blade. Her eyes adjusted to the dark by then. Black masses turned to crumbling walls, stairways to nowhere, half-arches.

She paused, letting her senses guide her once more. Her ears pricked at the whisper of footsteps. She adjusted her course to the western end of the main cavern.

As a lioness stalks its prey – silently padding upon the earth – so too did Edielth move about the rubble. A faint light flickered in one of the tunnels. Shadows leapt across the ruins.

Edielth pressed her back against the cavern wall, listening to their approaching steps, watching the growing torchlight. A tall figure emerged from the mouth of the tunnel. She whipped her blade against its throat, just as her mind truly touched his.

"Edileth?" His voice was full of surprise. "What are you doing? 'Tis Celik, and here is Marrik beside me."

Edileth lowered her blade. "What in Naine Mithale were you thinking? It is the middle of the night, and you sent us no warning."

"I was trying to arrive as soon as possible. Marrik needs medical attention."

Edileth took a step back and studied them, now clear in the light of the torch Celik held. Marrik was leaning heavily against him, barely clinging to consciousness. One of his hands was bloodied where it pressed a rag against what looked to be a severe stab wound.

She sheathed her weapon and helped carry their injured member back toward the sleeping quarters.

Between Marrik's groans, their cluttering steps, and the flickering torchlight, their companions jerked wide awake.

Yena was first on her feet, bustling over to take Marrik off their hands. "What happened?"

"Bekhron. Only one. I came upon him and he had already felled the beast. He has a stomach wound; looks severe."

The room was now quite cramped. Yena and Celik lowered Marrik to the ground and laid him down as gently as they could. His face was twisted in agony; his body shivering from shock.

Joenek stoked the fire, providing more light by which to work. Yena requested all but her husband to leave, and immediately set to work once the chamber was cleared.

Edileth watched from the entrance as Yena checked his mouth and wrists.

"Cold as ice," she muttered, "and his pulse is too rapid. He's losing circulation. Torben, darling, I need–"

Torben retrieved a small vial of amber-coloured liquid and placed it in his wife's outstretched hand. She thanked him and poured three droplets of the thick liquid into Marrik's mouth.

Yena removed the bloody rag from Marrik's wound, the tunic and shirt from his body.

A deep, welted gash spread across his torso, glaring red, covers in dried blood. Marrik moaned as Yena pressed around it. Thick, dark blood started oozed from the wound.

"The imdren-mina is working," she muttered.

She cleaned most of the blood from around the wound before rinsing her own hands with a liquid Edileth did not recognize. Even Edileth winced as Yena pulled the skin of Marrik's wound apart and inspected it.

A small section of Marrik's intestine bulged through the gap, blood and waste slowly trickling out. Edileth gasped at the sight.

"Feridh have mercy. His intestine has been lacerated." Yena beckoned Edileth to come closer. Her voice was apologetic when next she spoke, "Your hands are smaller than those of the rothni."

Edileth could have laughed, but she was too horrified by the thought. "You do not mean–"

The look on Yena's face only confirmed her fears. It also allowed no room for refusal. Marrik needed her; what else could she do? Edileth rinsed her hands and followed Yena's instructions with care, stifling a shudder as her hands touched where Yena's were.

The healer found the laceration and motioned for Torben. "Hold this with the forceps while I stitch. Edileth – keep the wound open and steady."

It seemed an excruciating amount of time had passed before Yena laced the last stitch of thread in Marrik's bowels, but she finally held out her hand.

"Fresh yefidhe solution."

Torben hurried to collect the required herbs and liquids, into which Yena proceeded to dip a wad of clean cloth before cleaning the entire area of operation.

"Thank you for your help, child. I can close the wound from here."

Edileth sighed and cleaned the gore from her hands. She had endured plenty of her own injuries but seeing into another elf's body was another matter.

Yena, on the other hand, worked with swift, masterful hands, as though she were simply hemming a tunic.

"He is remarkably fortunate." The healer finished coating Marrik's wound with a paste. "However, he is not out of the woods of Si-ol quite yet."

She eased back from her work, hands and equipment clean. their gaze fell to the mouth of the cavern, where everyone else was still gathered.

Yena gave a small chuckle. "Be at peace, friends. Let us now rest."