Chapter One - Kyla

Clouds covered most of the sky. She looked, but she could not see the owl. She waited and listened. If the owl was successful, it would cry out in victory and it would be her turn to hunt. If the sun rose and the owl still cried out its warning, then she would turn and go back to camp and warn the others that today would be a bad day for battle.

She was not afraid of these Elar. She had seen them, and at first they did not look too unlike people. They shared many of the same features. But there were important differences.

She knew not to shoot arrows at the gleaming garments they wrapped themselves in. Those were hard metal, and her arrows would have little effect through them. But those metal garments were heavy. She had seen one, even touched one taken from a slain enemy.

No, she told herself, a people that had to hide themselves behind such protection only showed how weak and fragile they were. The elder shaman had painted her skin before she had left camp. Swiftness, accuracy, guidance--these were the marks he put upon her.

The owl shouted out its loud hunting cry, and her ears told her the bird was diving for the kill. It was only a moment before she heard the labored flapping of wings. The bird carried victory in curved talons. It was her sign.

She clucked softly to her mount and the horse moved forward through the tall grass. She advanced slowly. The Elar had good eyes, but still they would see movement before anything else.

The sky lightened slowly with the approaching dawn. With daybreak the cloud cover would leave, and there would be battle under the open sky, the way it should be. The Elar camp was between her and the coming sun, so she would give them no silhouette to see. They would be unlikely to see her coming.

She heard music coming from their camp before she got close enough to see the smoke rising from their many fires. From the fires and tents she could see that there were very many of them. There were more Elar than there were her own people behind her. Numbers were not what determined victory, she reminded herself.

The closer she got the more slowly she advanced. There was enough time before sunrise. She would be in range when the time came. When the sun first appeared over the far horizon she would fire one arrow and take the first life of the day. It would be their only warning to the Elar. It would be a message that said, "if you want more death, come, and we will give it to you." She had been told the Elar had never heeded such warnings before, but they would have that chance today.

As the sky lightened more she could see the smaller shapes of Morgule slaves. She had never met a Morgule herself, but had heard many stories of their brave warriors and mighty ships. Though small in stature, they had ruled the seas for centuries until the Elar had come. It was said that it had not been the Elar warriors who had driven the Morgule from the sea and enslaved them, but the Elar conjurers. The Morgule had fled as the sea itself was turned against them. Now, the once-proud people were only allowed to live if they grovelled before the Elar and served them well. One trader had suggested that the Elar only advanced into the grasslands to replenish their dwindling supply of slaves as they killed them for the smallest offense. Kyla had laughed at that. Her people would never allow themselves to be enslaved. He had only replied that the Morgule had once made such claims as well.

The horse twitched nervously and she stopped. The sound of the music the Elar had been making had shifted. There was more movement in camp now, and it seemed to her as if the music was now a signal to wake those who had been sleeping. For a moment she worried that she had been discovered, but saw that they made no move to advance out of their camp just yet. It looked as if they were eating and dressing in their metal armor. She knew her own tribe would be eating a light breakfast and preparing for battle as well.

Her horse snorted quietly and stamped its feet restlessly, and she scanned all around her, searching for what was unsettling it so much. She stroked it's mane and whispered softly into its ear to calm it until a movement caught the edge of her vision and she turned towards it for a better look. Her heart caught in her throat as a new figure stepped out of one of the campfires.

Fire elemental, she realized in horror. It's dark black skin seemed to glow in cracks all along it, and it seemed to be staring angrily down at one of the Elar. They've brought a conjurer, she thought to herself. She freed an arrow from the quiver at her hip, and pulled her bow to readiness. In the dim light, she sighted down the arrow at the robed Elar as he and the elemental stood motionless before one another.

What happens if I kill him? she suddenly hesitated. She had no idea how much control the conjurer currently had over the elemental and if it would still obey the remaining Elar if she killed the one who'd summoned it. She only knew that if the elemental reached the tall, dry grasses they would burn before it, taking away one of the main advantages her people's warriors had in defending their homelands. Will killing him send it away or free it? She knew little of conjuring spirits, as it was considered enslaving the forces of nature themselves - something her people would never do.

Kyla closed her eyes a moment and prayed before focusing and aiming for the conjurer's neck. She could only hope that killing the conjurer would free the elemental and that it would respect her people and leave as a result. She held her breath as pulled the string taut and then the arrow flew from her fingers on her release.

In her mind she envisioned the flight of the arrow. She knew that the arrow existed in both the physical world and in the dreaming world of her mind. She had been trained to step from one world to the other, so that events in one could affect events in the other.

With her eyes she saw the physical arrow in the same space and the same arc through the sky as the arrow in her mind. Both arrows struck true in the conjurer's throat. She almost never missed.

The conjurer clutched at the arrow, surprise obvious even from this distance. He clawed at the arrow with his hands as he dropped to his knees. She knew what to expect from the wound. With both her eyes and her mind she saw the bald man start to sway front to back unable to even scream. The man coughed a few more times before falling.

She looked at the other people in the camp and saw them looking around in confusion. Some called out alarms. A few looked towards her. She sat high in her saddle. She would not turn until they gave chase. That was their way.

But mostly she watched the elemental. For a moment it stood looking down at the little figure lying near its feet. One fiery foot kicked at the body, igniting the cloth of the robes. It was only then that trumpets finally sounded in alarm.

At the sound of the trumpets the elemental looked around it at the encamped army. It said something unintelligible. It's voice was the sound of a roaring fire, but impossibly loud. Elar warriors stepped back, drawing long, straight swords.

The elemental picked one warrior up with one hand. Its fingers were large enough to wrap completely around the man. The man's screams carried to her with the wind. She was too far to smell the man's flesh burning, although she knew it had to be. He did not scream for long, and when he stopped screaming the elemental dropped him.

Many of the Elar had long bows and the fired arrows at the elemental. The Elar bows were simpler, just carved wood bent into a single curve, too long to use on horseback. Her bow was layers of wood and horn bonded together, and it had additional curves outward at the ends. She knew that her bow would be more powerful than the Elar bows.

None of the arrows seemed to have any real effect on it. They lodged in the black skin where they started burning. The arrows fell to the grass--most of them burning.

One Elar in particular was bellowing orders although it was difficult to hear him over the roar of the elemental. While she did not understand what he was saying, she could see the Elar warriors stepping back several paces, away from the elemental. The archers held their bows ready but did not let more arrows fly. The warrior who'd given the commands did not draw his sword, but ordered others to make a circle around the Elemental with buckets of water, dousing the ground. Kyla leaned forward on her horse, watching carefully.

The elemental seemed more angry with this than he had about the arrows. he leaned over, reaching out and managing to grab one of the warriors who'd been pouring the buckets. The warrior screamed until he grew limp at which point the elemental threw him at the others. Most managed to dodge their comrade, and afterwards stamped out the burning grasses where his body landed. She noticed briefly that the body seemed to shatter when it hit the ground, as a piece of wood might after it had been burned to black ash.

The commanding warrior said some things to the elemental, reading from a book in the process. The elemental seemed restless, pacing the edges of the circle of water that had been poured around him. It seemed to Kyla as if he could not cross over it though. He grabbed whatever he could find inside the circle, including the conjurer's body, and flung it at the commanding warrior, who dodged every time. She did not know if it was something from the book the commanding warrior read or if the elemental itself chose to do it, but suddenly it began to glow bright red through the cracks in its blackened skin-like outer coating. Without further warning, the elemental seemed to explode into a thousand firey sparks that burned bright, angry red before settling into ash. Then the ash started to spiral, like a tiny black tornado, growing thicker and stronger as it gathered. The bottom of the funnel made it's way to the campfire from which the elemental had originally stepped and seemed to burrow into it, disappearing into the flames.

Once it was gone, the commander ordered the fire snuffed out before he turned his attention towards Kyla. She hadn't wasted her time while she was watching. She had another arrow ready on the bow and for a moment she saw the commander hesitate, as she was pointing it directly at him. She let the arrow loose, moving with it in her mind for a moment as she planted it at the edge of his boot, just in front of him. Heed the warning, Elar, she thought, wishing he could understand her. Turn back this day. Do not bring death to your men.

The Elar seemed to cock his head for a moment, as if he'd heard her, before turning and bellowing at his warriors, pointing in her direction. She waited another moment, for them to actually start running in her direction, before she turned her mount, gently nudging his sides with her calves. The horse put its head down and began to gallop away, just as the first arrows began to sing in the air from behind her.

She turned her head long enough to see the arrows in flight. She had been told that the Elar arrows would have longer range then hers, but would travel more slowly. They almost looked lazy in their arcs through the sky, and avoiding them was not difficult.

The trumpets behind her changed tunes, but she did not know what the Elar war songs meant. She did not look back again. Either they would chase her for battle, or they would heed the warning and not follow. It was out of her hands now.

Her horse crossed the distance between the two camps quickly. She knew it would take the Elar much longer on foot weighed down as they would be by their armor.

Her camp was at the top of a hill. She passed guards concealed in grasses as she approached. She knew where to find them, and she slowed when she reached them. It was a more relaxed ride up the gentle slope of the hill.

The sun was up behind her now as she arrived at camp. The warm light brought out the red colors in the red and brown hides that made up their tents. She was greeted by a number of warriors. Her father, Rynik, was the chief warrior of their tribe, and she went to him first. She slid off her mount before him.

"They have been warned not to come," she told him. "They had a conjurer who made a fire elemental. I killed the conjurer, one of their chiefs was able to banish the thing. I did see how they contained it first. They poured water in a circle around it, and it could not cross."

"Thank you, Kyla," he said. "We will make ready in case they have another conjurer."

"Would they have another?" a young warrior named Torlain asked.

"It is wise to be prepared," Rynik said. It was a saying she had heard often in her youth. "Go ready yourselves for battle."

She gave her father a nod of acknowledgement, as did Torlain, and then moved out of the way as Rynik turned to address some of the other warriors nearby. Torlain turned and moved off towards the shaman's fire, but Kyla had already attended to that earlier. Instead, she took her horse for water and food first, stroking his neck and speaking soft words of encouragement to the animal while it drank and ate. She stopped at her sleeping furs long enough to replenish the two arrows she'd used and add a second quiver to her belt before making her way to the altar to pray.

Someone had already stoked the coals in the stone bowl at the altar, and she added a few of the sweet-smelling grasses to it, kept there for that very purpose. As they caught fire and burned, from the heat of the coals, she took a moment to inhale the almost intoxicating scent they gave off. It gave her a feeling of strength, for which she thanked Aldanara, Goddess of All Nature. She moved next to the small ceramic jars that contained pigments derived from berries and flowers they gathered. The elder shaman had used the same type of pigments to mark her earlier in the day, but now she marked herself further in prayer. She first drew animals of strength and quickness on her arms and legs, asking Aldanara to keep her from faltering during battle. She then unlaced her shirt and drew the symbol of her tribe over her heart, asking Aldanara to keep her tribe safe from harm. Last, she took the sharp knife that lay upon the altar before the image of the Goddess and made a tiny cut on the side of one arm, until a small amount of blood appeared. She allowed this blood to spill into the silver cup that also sat upon the altar. There, it mingled with the blood of the rest of her tribe and the blood of any animals who'd lives had recently been taken to feed the tribe. She wiped the blade clean and left the tiny wound to heal itself as she knew it would.

She gave one last prayer of thanks before lacing up her shirt again and moving with her horse towards where the other warriors were gathering. The drums were playing, calling all tribal warriors to arms. The Elar had been spotted. The drums also told that they had stopped to gather in a more organized fashion.

She mounted her horse, nodding to several of the nearby warriors who'd acknowledged her arrival. She saw others mounted as she was, bows in hand, and she unslung hers from over her torso again, making it ready. Her father stood at the front, watching for the scouts to return and confirm the Elar's progress.

The drums fell silent. More and more Draheld warriors gathered, mostly in front of her. Her position for the moment was towards the back. Most of the warriors around her were more experienced than she was. She secretly wished that she felt as confident and ready as they looked.

She touched the straps holding her equipment in place. There were the two quivers of sixteen arrows each at her belt. She had a knife at her belt also, but she did not expect to use it in battle. She checked the two sabers over her shoulder, ensuring that they were snugly enough in their scabbards but loose enough to be drawn quickly.

A breeze toyed with her hair, and she smelled a hint of wild flowers in the air. Her horse shifted its hooves, waiting. It would be his first true battle, too, and she felt his nervousness. She whispered soothing words to him.

She heard the drums of the Elar before they were in sight. Their drums were slow, and their lines advanced into sight gradually. They stood in ordered formations. Banners on tall staves decorated their ranks periodically.

She didn't know a number for how many of them there had to be, but there were clearly more now than she had guessed from her prior observation. For each in her tribe there were four or five Elar. She saw no other elementals, and for this she was thankful.

She could see the scouts between them and the Elar. One of them turned and fired an arrow towards the Elar. It sailed high and landed before them. It was the last warning that would be offered. It marked a boundary: come no further than this.

The Elar only continued their advance--they even quickened it. A tribal horn called out a long, sad note when the Elar passed the marked arrow. It was the call to attack. Her tribe spread out and surged forward. She guided her mount in with the rest.

They spread thinner, spiraling around the Elar. They were more mobile than their armored enemy. The Elar bows fired their slow arrows with no effect. The first Draheld arrow flew straight and caught an Elar in the neck. He fell. More Draheld began firing, and she joined them as she was trained to do.

The first of her quivers seemed to empty far too quickly. It was up to her and the other archers to take down as many as possible before the warriors on foot reached the enemy. While she had participated in the occasional small encounter before, this was far different from the usual animal hunts she'd become so proficient at. Even following the arrows with her mind did not always ensure the arrow made it to a vulnerable area on her targets, and a few of her arrows had bounced uselessly off armor. It took time to aim properly for the small amounts of flesh that showed through the armor, and she found she needed to keep her and her mount moving if she wished to continue avoiding their arrows. While she did manage to make most of her arrows at least wound their targets, and several seemed to have taken the Elar they hit out of the battle, she was disappointed with the overall effect as she dipped her hand into the second quiver. The Draheld warriors had nearly reached those of the Elar, and it did not seem as if nearly enough of the Elar had fallen yet.

She was pround of her mount, however, who seemed nervous but still remained still and steady beneath her. Now and again she spoke words of encouragement to it as she drew the next arrow. It would not do to have the horse show fear now, and she did her best to quell her own fears so that he would not feel them.

She was several arrows into the second quiver when the Draheld warriors gave out a battle cry as they engaged the Elar. The Elar drums heightened, and the Draheld horns heralded it as well, although the difference in notes they each used was considerable. The Elar drummers played a note that sounded more angry and determined than anything else, while the tribal horns played mournfully, reflecting the knowledge that many would die here today. The Draheld did not seek battle with the Elar. It was the Elar who had come here insisting upon it.

She needed to aim more carefully now, and turned her attention to the Elar archers instead, now that their warriors were engaged. She saw that the archers were less armored than the warriors, and were distracted now that the melee battle had begun. She was able to slow her movements and make nearly all of her arrows count, killing many of them before her own quiver was empty. Then she slung her bow carefully across her torso again before drawing her sabres and urging her horse into a charge. She leaned forward, into the momentum of the horse, and flanked in from one side to slice at one of the Elar warriors in passing. Sparks flew as her blade scraped loudly against his metal armor before she and her mount moved quickly away, out of range for him to swing his blade at her in return.

He tried, of course. His armor made him slow, and his straight sword was obviously heavy. Avoiding it was easy at first.

She circled with him for a moment, trying to get the right angles to swing at parts less covered. Metal covered his chest and back, parts of his arms, and his thighs. There were gaps at joints, particularly around the hips. Hips were bony; she didn't try to swing there.

He swung at her more, advancing, but she backed away. Eventually she lunged forward towards his left, and she brought her right sword along the side of his neck. It was enough to bring out a lot of blood, and he staggered back away from her clutching his neck. She moved on.

She next found herself in the middle of action. There were so many more of the Elar than there were Draheld. She saw fallen from both sides, and when two swung at her she just found herself fighting to stay alive. She dodged and parried with both swords.

One of the Elar swung at her horse, and she barely jumped it out of the way. As it was the sword nicked flesh and the horse nearly panicked. One of the Elar got kicked in the process, but two more replaced him. Her horse reared up and kicked one of them, crushing the Elar's skull.

She swung aggressively now, hoping to keep the Elar back. Most of her swings that connected only glanced off metal, but a few found softer parts. All she could think of was that there were so many, that they were hard to kill, and that she didn't want to die.

Then, as if sensing her fear, the Draheld horns sounded another mournful note. One she'd only heard used in training. Retreat the horn sang sadly. Her heart dropped to her stomach. Never in history had her tribe retreated from battle. She sliced at the nearest Elar with a combination of anger and terror as she tried to determine the quickest way out of the fighting. She couldn't see any other members of her tribe that didn't lie dead. She turned her horse and found herself face to face with the commander she'd seen before. Unlike the Elar warriors, he sat astride a large horse, larger than her own. She tried to dodge to one side, meaning to slip alongside him and hopefully try and cut him with one of her blades while passing, but he turned, closing the gap she planned to use for the escape. She began to panic, realizing she was almost entirely surrounded.

She saw another potential to get out. A gap that was rapidly closing, but if she jumped her horse she could make it. In the disance, the horn sounded again, more urgently this time, calling the tribe back from the battle. They would move quickly. If she didn't join them soon, they would assume her to be dead and leave. She'd have to search to find them.

She prayed to Aldanara then, begging the Goddess to help her escape and rejoin her tribe. She rushed forward, bringing her knees and feet in to let the horse know what she needed him to do. The horse leapt into the air, clearing the gap and putting them at the other side of the Elar warriors. The Elar commander moved his own horse forward and said something to the other Elar there. They turned, moving to surround her again.

She turned her horse, again searching quickly for the best way out of the battle, when one of the bodies on the ground caught her eye. The world seemed to spin for a moment, frozen in time as she stared at the time-weathered face of her father. One eye stared glassily back at her through the blood spattered across his brow and cheek. There was a long, deep cut down the front of his chest. Kyla's breath stopped in her throat as she found herself just staring at him. She suddenly had no idea what to do next.

Then movement brought her back to the moment and she turned her head just in time to see the commander bringing the hilt end of his sword down across the back of her head. She tried to feebly get her arm up in time to block the blow, but it only glanced off his armored arm instead as pain shot through the back of her skull. Then she was falling, her balance lost. She found herself on the ground next to her father, staring in shock at him. One of her blades had gone skittering away on the ground, out of her hand. She couldn't catch her breath. Another blow came, and she found herself wishing for a quick death as the darkness fell upon her.