Unlikely Friendships 1

"How bad is it in Solstar?" asked Aesa, sitting back on the wooden bench. It was morning, and the stone balcony that held the bench was still in shadow, but that was fine. She'd needed a break from taking care of Rose, and her current companion seemed more comfortable in the relatively darkness. 

"Bad," said that soft, whisper-thin voice. "It hit like the end of the world. The only ones left are the ones who couldn't leave: the very young, the very old, and those bound to care for them. Or those detained; the remains of the Dark Army put a guard on a few of the prominent merchant families in order to make sure they had somebody to keep the troops supplied."

"But you've been getting people out," Aesa frowned. "Tavros told me. So did whats-his-name... Clovis."

The Silver Fox shifted on the bench. He was brooding again; Aesa could hear it in his voice. "Those we can. But it's dangerous; the demons will try to kill anyone they find, and the remains of the Dark Army will kill anyone who tries to leave. I lost the Boar to a Marilith: she broke the demon's neck, but died of her wounds, and there were too many Vrocks around for us to retrieve her corpse. The Hawk stayed behind to distract them, and died of teleportation -- her attempt at the spell brought one of the thunder worms, and that kept the demons busy while we escaped. I got separated from the Mouse and the Owl a week later; we were supposed to meet in Drisnan Springs, but they never showed up. Dead or in hiding, and at this point I'm not sure which might be more of a mercy."

Aesa shivered. Even with the elves taking over, they'd been sheltered from the worst of things here in Caristhium. "At least you're doing something," she said. 

Vendril shrugged. "And you think you have not? You have a child," he observed. "Small, young, vulnerable. That's not a failure, it's a responsibility." He looked away, then added absently: "And at least my people are safe."

Aesa cocked her head. "Your people?" Her people were here at the temple. Her mother ran a small shop and her father had been an itinerant worker and sometime hunter; she didn't really have a people beyond that.

"My clan," said Vendril, then turned his head to look at her. "I'm not a Duendewood elf, Aesa. My people come from the far southeast. We move from the Fomorian Peninsula to the western edge of the Hopeful Cove, and in between we cross the Forgotten Desert -- but it is not ours. We... My people are coastal people, and we live strategically and move as we need to. And we acknowledge our duty to the Throne, and many of us take service at Fort Dedo when we come of age and need the seasoning."

He shrugged, and she heard a small smile behind the mask as he added: "It was merely my misfortune to be there when the Dark Army and the Wildlanders turned everything on its head."