Author's note: The remaining chapters are original, with minimal plotting edits. This original manuscript of Warrior of Light meandered quite a bit, focusing on character interaction and was more an exercise to figure out their personalities and how I wanted to reach a decent ending for the first book. I had no real goals for the storyline, allowing the characters to take me on rather circuitous paths that did not add to the tale. I have since become better acquainted with my characters and their motives and have made some drastic alterations to the pacing of WoL. I have removed massive sections of 'fluff' that do not add to the plot and character development.

For this reason, you will notice that the 'minimally-edited' version of chapter fifteen covers events which occurred in previous chapters of the revised manuscript. There may also be a few things mentioned from the original transcript that were removed when I revised it. I thank you for your understanding and hope you still find some enjoyment from the rest of the story (unpolished though it may be).

The next morning, the Ferlians prepared to leave. Arun and Joenek brought food up from the kitchen, while the others bustled about, packing their belongings. They all ate in relative quiet; occasionally making some small comment.

There came a rather surprising moment, however, when Marrik awoke from his delirious state; groggy, but altogether more aware than he had previously been. Yena poked her head out of the smaller room with a look of excitement in her features and bid them enter.

The elves gradually shuffled through the door to see how their companion fared. Joenek hung back – not because he was shy, but for the simple fact that he wished to respect the others' moment of joy.

At first, the room was filled with four voices asking four variations of the same thing. Torben, Rikku, Arun, and Celik glanced at one another with amused grins or small chortles. Joenek noted that Edileth had not joined in the group's questioning. Even now, as Torben asked Marrik how he was feeling, the young she-elf gazed at the subject of commotion with unease. Curiosity stirred within Joenek as he continued to study the blonde elf.

"...Joenek..."

The roth was snapped out of his daze, as he heard Yena begin telling Marrik about how he had become a member of the group. Joenek quickly looked away from Edileth, as the others turned to him.

Now that the attention was upon him, Joenek moved toward the front of the group, giving a wide smile. He stretched his hand out to Marrik, grasping the other's forearm in the manner common among male friends. A cunning sort of grin spread across the raven-haired elf's face. Joenek gave a greeting.

"It's nice to finally meet you, officially. Technically, I met you a couple days ago...you weren't exactly talkative, though."

There was a chorus of chuckling, and Marrik's grin widened into a somewhat crooked-toothed smile.

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't be more obliging upon our first meeting."

His voice was rather deep and there was hoarseness to it from lack of use. Joenek was also surprised at the thick, throaty sort of accent. Though it seemed familiar, he could not quite place it.

There was another bout of chortling before Yena shooed the group from the room so that she could tend Marrik's wound and provide further care.

As everyone settled about the room to wait, Joenek sauntered toward Edileth. After the dream he had had in the middle of the night, he felt a bit awkward around her. But after seeing the anxiety in her features only moments ago, he wanted to know what had bothered her so.

I don't think it's just because she doesn't like him. Joenek compared her overall countenance around Marrik to the way she responded to and treated him. She looked more worried than annoyed.

He crouched beside her before gradually seating himself on the floor. Surprisingly, she didn't give him a look of entire condescension. They sat quietly for a brief time, Joenek sneaking glances at her occasionally. At last, he turned to Edileth.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was hushed, to avoid the attention of the others. He knew there was little likelihood of her giving him any real answers; even less so if she knew the others were listening to the conversation.

Something akin to fear flashed in her eyes for the briefest of moments, until she covered it with a look of confusion.

"Yes..." Her answer was drawn out, sounding more like a question.

"You just..." Joenek paused, thinking of how to express his thoughts. "You looked sort of upset, back there; in the other room."

The female arched her brow. Joenek felt a sudden hastening of his heartbeat. The movement was so simple – how many times had he seen Edileth arch her brow in the same manner – and yet it sent his pulse racing. In spite of her slightly pursed lips and vaguely haughty gaze, Joenek felt taken aback by the she-elf's beauty. He took a deep breath, holding her gaze and waiting for her response.

Edileth soon lowered her eyes. She looked as though she was struggling to create an adequate answer. Without thinking, Joenek reached out and laid a hand on her arm, cocking his head to the side in attempt of regaining eye contact with the female. She cast a cursory glance in his direction and, as their eyes met, Joenek spoke.

"You don't have to tell me. But I want you to know that you can tell me...anything. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can come to me. It doesn't even have to be something serious; it could literally be anything. You could talk to me about how to make a dress, for all I care. I wouldn't mind listening.

"I know you're still having a hard time getting used to me, but I want to be your friend. I don't want us to always be arguing with each other. And I know, you said you're trying; I'm grateful for that, actually. I just really want you to know that I want to help any way I can. I think you're a great elf, and you should enjoy life more. So that's what I'm here for; to be your friend and help you laugh."

Edileth stared at him for a moment before giving a small nod. She then turned and pulled her copy of Aór Mírnen from her pack. Without so much as a response to the small speech Joenek had given, Edileth opened the Holy book and began reading.

The young male sighed, shaking his head. He then stood and moved toward Arun.

What in Naine Mithale goes on in that brain of hers?

Arun stood in a corner of the room, watching Joenek with the light of amusement shining in his eyes. As the roth neared his blacksmith friend, he gave a questioning look and tilted his head. Once they stood relatively near one another, Arun leaned toward Joenek and spoke quietly.

"So, should we be expectin' t'e weddin' festivities soon?"

"What?" Joenek asked in bafflement.

"Oh, I woz just noticin' 'ow close ye've been gettin' wit' Edilet', t'ere."

Joenek gave a snort of amusement.

"Uh, yah, okay."

Shaking his head at the idea, Joenek spoke again.

"The only way she would be able to stand my presence would be if I was strung up by my neck. I'm pretty sure she would rather commit suicide than be stuck in matrimony with me."

"Hmm." Arun was nodding his head with exaggerated slowness. "But I noticed, ye made no mention o' yer own feelin's."

"Well, frankly, I don't think I would be all that thrilled about getting stuck with her, either."

"Oh, come, now. Ye canno' fool t'is ol' bear. Why, I knows you nearly as good as me own self. You's got feelin's for 'er."

Joenek sighed. Arun had become like a brother to him since their first meeting as children, nineteen summers ago. It seemed the only thing he had ever been able to hide was his foresight; and now he didn't even have that.

"I'll admit; she is very...interesting. And I have grown to like her these past few days. But I don't know that I could ever stomach bonding myself to her in such a way; even if she would have me. I'd be stuck with her for life; and I'm sure it would be a very short and miserable life, at that."

Arun seemed to explode with laughter. He tried to fight it, but had failed, miserably. Joenek smiled awkwardly as all eyes turned upon them.

Once the large elf had regained his composure, he patted Joenek on the back.

"Oi, Joen; ye sure do 'ave a sense o' 'umor about ye."

Joenek looked at Arun with no trace of said humor in his eyes.

"Oh, no, I was being totally serious."

Arun's face began shifting into a mask of confusion, until he saw the small grin that Joenek was attempting to keep at bay.

"Ah, ye rotten trickster. Ye almost 'ad me believin' ye."

He threw a fake punch at Joenek's shoulder. They chuckled for a few moments more.

Roughly a quarter of an hour later, the Ferlians had gathered all their belongings and were walking out into the hall. Rather than making their way to the stairs which led to the tavern, the group moved to the left, where a second stairway led to a side door and the attached stables.

Much to their surprise, the stables were already filled with bestirred activity. Solemn-faced elves, numbering just over one dozen, shuffled about with tack, supplies, and various other items. A blood bay horse nickered as it was led from a stall to be saddled.

Three elvish children bore the only joyous expressions in the gathering, running hither and thither among the adults and dodging about the legs of a large, dapple-gray mule. The draft-bred equine dropped its head, turning to watch the children with one of his expressive, brown eyes as they continued with their merry game of chase-and-catch.

The youngsters were so caught up in their game that they had not noticed the Ferlian group enter. The adults, however, had made note of the strangers. In short order, two mothers moved to their children, snatching at the small hands, and dragging them as far away from the Ferlians as was possible in the smallish stables. There were small cries of indignation form the children, as well as whispered scolding from the mothers.

Rastivelle, who had been in conversation with a severe-looking elf, glanced over at the sound of commotion. As soon as his eyes landed on the Ferlians, his expression of concern turned to one of relief. He motioned for the grim roth to follow, and then moved toward Joenek and his companions. As the two drew near, Rastivelle began speaking.

"Anthr," he said, nodding to Torben, "might I introduce you to Jich. Jich this is Anthr and his wife Siál, and their family. They are refugees fleeing from the Twin Cities."