Yena, who had tended to Marrik, returned to the small circle.

"He doesn't appear to have fever, but he is feeling out-of-sorts. He could drink, but I shall wait until he is a little more coherent before attempting to give him any food. Until then, I'll continue supplementing with the nutriment solution."

"Why did he speak of the...er...Mornme creature, I wonder?" Edileth frowned.

"It's possible Marrik overheard Joenek talking about the beast from his vision. Perhaps the Meshín Mornme was the first thing that came to mind."

Edileth looked toward Marrik, and Joenek wondered if she was thinking of her own encounter with the bekhron. At last, Edileth returned her gaze to Torben.

"I've never heard of such a creature in the old tales," said she. "Nor have I read of it anywhere."

"My dear child," Torben said, restraining a laugh. "The library in Kerindh may be one of the finest north of Rallind, but it is still only a very little one. And though you are well-learned considering your age and occupation, I have a few summers on you."

Torben gave a little wink and stood with a stretch. Joenek thought the subtle squint of Edileth's eyes hinted at irritation. After he had brushed off his over-tunic, Torben turned and addressed the rest of the elves.

"We best prepare to leave. We have had a few hours' rest and now we must press on. In about an hour, we should reach the exit and be on the western-most edge of the Drezkens. Hopefully, Rikku will have been successful in finding a wild pony or something of the sort.

"It could take us more than a week to cross the Fdhellin Plains and arrive at Filne-Semmit. No doubt, Akkheron's ilk are still roaming Gael-Narenth, which could well impede our progress."

"Why are we taking the Gredhe to the Elders in Filne-Semmit? Do they know what it is?" Curiosity hummed through Joenek. He still lacked a clear understanding of what the Hibh en Gredhe was, and why it was so important.

"All in its proper time, lad."

Joenek groaned at Torben's 'answer'.

A gentle breeze drifted across the plains, winding its way toward the collection of mountains. As it rose to meet them, the zephyr brushed against Joenek and his new travelling companions. It caressed their bodies, sending loose strands of hair or fabric of clothing bouncing in its current. The moon was a silver splinter in the dark canvas above.

The group stood upon a small ridge, overlooking the Fdhellin Plains. To their left, a small path wound a short distance through the lower, hilly parts of the Drezkens before finally meeting with the easternmost edge of the Plains.

Rikku stepped out from behind an outcropping of rock, followed by a peculiar sort of creature, whose body reminded Joenek of a large, barrel-chested hound. Upon further inspection, he found that it also bore a striking resemblance to a horse, with hooved feet and an elongated face. However, the creature's face differed from that of a horse in the bony ridges above its slanted eyes. These almost had a reptilian appearance.

"Splendid," said Torben upon sighting the creature. "A lorthen will serve us well in our travels."

Ah! thought Joenek. So this is a lorthen. I've only ever seen them at a great distance.

After a short time, the elves had fashioned a litter upon which Marrik could lie quite comfortably. This done, they attached it to the lorthen. At last, they were on the move and departing the Drezkens.

As they met with the edges of the Plains approximately half an hour later, Celik steered them in a southwesterly direction. This would lead them – after unknown days of travel – to the city of Filne-Semmit in the Western Region of Gael-Narenth.

Early in the afternoon of the following day, the group came upon a weather-worn cottage nestled between two hills. A dilapidated shelter was attached to one side of the cottage. Here, the lorthen was left to rest. Meanwhile, the elves entered the abandoned building, the structure of which was sound despite its neglect.

The walls had been made from a mix of stone and some form of thick mud – much of which was still in place. The roof had long since decayed; odd clumps of thatching was strewn across the dirt floor. At the far end of the large main room were the remains of two half-rooms.

Yena set to work at once, stringing up some length of fabric to provide the half-rooms with relative privacy.

"Come," she said, "let those who wear finer garments change into something more fitting of refugees."

Yena's gaze seemed to fix upon Celik and Edileth, whose attire would be conspicuous in a crowd of lower-class elves fleeing danger.

Though Celik seemed loath to part ways with his Naduhlian garb, he must have seen the wisdom in Yena's words. He gave a slow nod in her direction and took up his pack to change in one of the partitioned 'rooms'.

Edileth, on the other hand crossed her arms and seemed ready to fight Yena on the matter.

"Why must I remove my armour? Surely it would be wise to be prepared in the event that some foul creation of Akkheron's does locate us."

"Aye, an' they'll certainly find us quicker if you're girded for battle amidst wee children."

Joenek choked back a laugh at Arun's words and Edileth's reddened face. She shifted her gaze to glare at Joenek. At last, Edileth spun on her heels and stomped to the remaining 'room'.

When she returned, she had changed into a simple, blue-grey dress which extended just beyond mid-calf. Draped about her shoulders, Edileth wore a dark, woolen cloak. Her long braid had been wound around itself and fashioned into a bun.

Though her attire had changed, Joenek thought Edileth looked no less fierce than before. She still held herself with an air of militant resolve; feet shoulder-width apart, back straight, chin lifted.

Within the relative shelter of the cottage, the elves rested as they ate a meal. When they had finished, Torben – with the aid of Rikku and Arun – reattached Marrik's litter to the lorthen. He then placed a cloaking spell upon them so that it appeared as though Marrik lay in the bed of a small, horse-drawn wagon.

Rikku caught the attention of a passing rook who fluttered down from the dark, clouded sky. It landed on a short stretch of low-lying wall that hemmed in the outer shelter. Joenek watched in fascination as Rikku conversed with the black bird. She spoke in the common tongue, but her words were accented by bird-like chirrups and throaty caws so that Joenek found it difficult to understand what was being said.

The rook bobbed its head once or twice while Rikku spoke. When she had finished, it released a few rasping crows, lifting its wings as it side-hopped. Rikku asked another bird-ish question, or so it seemed to Joenek, for then the rook gave a sharp caw, bobbed its head, and ruffled its feathers.

"Zank you, friend. May your wings take you on safe currents."

The rook gave one final caw and leapt into flight.

"What news from the rook?" asked Arun.

"Ze twin cities 'ave fallen. Tousands are now zhourneying sous to Filne-Semmit, in 'opes of finding shelter."

"This accursed war that ever looms on the horizon," Torben grumbled. "The common elf faces the brunt of the hardships. But will our kings rise to the call of aid? Let it not be that we have come to the age when those in power ignore the needs of their citizens."

When the final preparations had been made, they departed the cottage. Celik directed them on a path that led slightly more westward, where he knew a small town had been erected near the trade route. As the group rounded the hill, so too did a curtain of rain.

It was an hour later that the group, wet and weary, trudged through the sodden main road of Gallimna. The road, now no more than a thick bed of muck, was clear of any other elves and the whimpering bay of a dog could be heard from a nearby alley.

They soon tramped into a small tavern. Arun remained outside with the disguised lorthen and Marrik, awaiting permission to stable the creature. Meanwhile, the rest of the party entered the building.

The pungent odor of too many bodies in a tight space rose to Joenek's nose. As the group trudged to one of the few open tables, Torben moved to the long counter at the back of the main room. He stopped before a broad elf who stood behind said counter.

The slightly hunched elf wiped at a grimy spot on the wood surface and appeared to be muttering to no one. At last, he seemed to notice Torben and looked up from the incriminating spot. Their words were brief.

Torben handed something to the other elf, shook hands and made his way to the entrance. As he slipped through the door and into the downpour, Joenek returned his attention to the tavern.

The table where he and the others of the group had settled was positioned on the right-hand side of the building, almost directly across from a poorly lit hall. On the left-hand side of the front room, more tables were positioned near another hall. Behind the long counter was a curtained opening which presumably led to the kitchen and cellars, as well as the owner's dwelling.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask what they were to do, Joenek caught sight of Torben and Arun coming from the hall to the left of the back wall. They made straight for the rest of the group, ignoring any wary glances from those seated at other tables. Once settled, Torben spoke quietly.

"I managed to acquire accommodations for the evening. The innkeeper was rather hesitant to provide rooms for us, but I was eventually able to convince him. It seems strangers are not too welcome here. And yet, they have become a good deal more common within the last week.

"I told him we were refugees, fleeing from the twin cities. Rastivelle – that's the innkeeper – confirmed that much of those passing through have come from the Calgoneth and Calgorath and the areas surrounding them."

"What of Marrik?" Yena whispered.

"Do not fear, my love. Rastivelle allowed us to bring Marrik through the back entrance. He is already resting well in one of the rooms."

Torben stopped speaking as he saw a girl moving to their table with a tray of grog. As she neared, she gave a small curtsy, refusing to make eye-contact as she placed the load on the table. Her job done, the young rothnak scampered back toward the kitchen, avoiding unwanted attention from many of the intoxicated males before disappearing through the curtain. Yena bore a look of grave disapproval; brows lowering and lips dipping in a frown.

"Now," began Torben, "lest curiosities be piqued, and questions asked – and we without answer – let me inform you of the identities which I gave Rastivelle. I would have been hard-pressed to acquire accommodations without a believable explanation, I shouldn't wonder. We must be consistent in our stories."

Torben, who had already been speaking in a whisper, lowered his voice further.

"Yena, my dear, you are – and ever shall be – my lovely wife, though you go by Siál. We have a son and daughter, by the names of Aemic and Jaenar."

Torben turned to Joenek and Rikku, respectively, as he gave their false names.

"My brother's son, Mnorthic, was visiting us when the cities were attacked. Naturally, we had to bring him along; I promised my dear brother that I would look out for you." Here, Torben winked at Arun.

"And then, my darling wife, there's the daughter of your brother. Tragedy befell her parents, and they were lost in the fray; killed by those accursed Elaborathin. You are rather good at being quiet and pensive; so, that shouldn't be too difficult to fake, Enári."

Edileth looked none too pleased, but nodded her head nonetheless.

"With her parents gone, dear Enári begged us to make for Calgorath to save her betrothed, Benorelt."

Joenek snickered at Edileth's frowning face as she glanced to Celik; Arun soon joined in the laughter. The Kenim Naduhl answered her glare with a wince. He seemed to Joenek ready to argue with Torben, but the hannorim held up a hand.

"Do not fret. Enári is still reeling from the loss of her parents, so she needs her betrothed to be flexible; comforting her when needed, but also knowing when to leave her alone. You need not fake affection for one another at all times."

The two still seemed displeased with Torben's decision, but little could be done now that the tale had already been told to Rastivelle. Torben smiled at the two and finished his explanation.

"Benorelt's ailing brother was struck amid a skirmish. We couldn't very well leave the poor lad in Calgorath to be slaughtered, so we've brought him along."

With a sudden cry, Edileth dropped her head into her hands. Her shoulders quaked as she fought back sobs. Joenek studied her and glanced to his companions. Everyone seemed just as surprised as he.

Either she is taking her role as bereaved daughter quite serious, or she's finally gone and lost her mind.

Celik, who sat beside her, revealed a slight grimace and then placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"What ails you?" asked he.

When Edileth did not respond, Celik turned her to face him. Much to everyone's surprise, she bent forward until her forehead rested against his chest. After a moment, Celik looked up offered to escort Edileth to their rooms.

Joenek contemplated Edileth's behaviour as Celik lifted her into a standing position and guided her toward the dark hall.

Author's note: This chapter has seen recent revision (as of 2021-02-11), with some drastic edits. Future chapters will not reflect these changes. Thank you for your patience, understanding and support.