Chapter 3

He moves first, Analise quick to follow. Walking towards the forest that borders their camp, Analise pauses. “Do you feel that?”

Prince Elliot stills, trying to notice what she does. After a few moments, he gives up. “No, I don’t. What is it?”

“An unusually strong amount of Laen is coming from in there.” Analise starts moving towards the trees, surprising Elliot. Generally speaking, large amounts of Laen coincide nicely with someone--or something--that would love to kill you.

Drawing his sword, he catches up to her quickly, standing by her side. “Is this a good idea?”

Analise’s face goes slightly blank as she seems to be in a sort of trance. “The pull is so strong.” She weaves around the first few trees. Elliot follows, all sense on red alert. The wine from last night enhanced their abilities, but he still wasn’t able to sense what she did.

After walking for a few more minutes, she stops, pointing at a small rodent-like animal. Elliot blinks; “A sotir? What is one of those doing all the way out here?” He turns towards Analise. “And why can you sense it?”

Seeming to come out of her trance since she found the source of Laen, she shakes her head. “It can’t be a sotir. Try and open your mind to its signatures; it's that of a person.”

Elliot does as she says, sending his own mental feelers into the area around him. Without the aid of the wine, he would never even manage to sense anything past his own aura, but today he had a few feet at his disposal. The signature did seem strange for such a small creature; to be sure he cross-references it with Analise’s own. They are definitely the same. “That’s not possible, is it?”

“Apparently it is.” She pauses, silently watching the animal. “And,” she starts cautiously, “why hasn’t it moved since we found it? Usually sotirs run, but this one--”

“Is just staring at us. Don’t move. Protect your mind. I’m going to kill it.” Elliot holds his sword in front of him, ready to strike. A dull ache begins in his head and he quickens his pace. Not sure if killing the creature would be better or worse, he finally makes up his mind, skewering it with his sword. A sharp burst of energy spreads through the area in waves, affecting the pair.

“Maybe that wasn’t a good idea,” Analise says, trying to stop the pain in her mind. “Elliot?” Too distracted to be formal, she walks closer to his place on the ground. As he was closer--and did not have as strong of a mental shield as she did--he took it worse. As the pain slowly ebbs away, Elliot begins to come to. “Elliot?” she calls once more, not sure if she would be able to carry him back to camp if it came to that. 

With a groan, Elliot opens his eyes, pushing himself off the ground. “We should probably get back. Make sure no one else felt it.”