Prelude- Beginning's End

These aren't my main characters. It's sort of an introduction to the world, if you will.

“Ah, but now I see something in those rocks ahead!” 

There was a momentary silence apparently indicating surprise" and the second figure backed away hesitantly. 

“I confess, I don’t much like this, Aldren,” he said simply, his hesitancy and unease clearly displayed in the cracked tones of his gentle voice.

There was a sharp laugh and an ensuing pause. “Show your much sought spine for a second, why don’t you?” the first figure, Aldren, replied with a self-serving grin. “Or is it a bit too chilly out for its liking?”

The second figure looked away uncomfortably and glanced back the long way they’d come. 

“Ah, don’t fret,” Aldren said soothingly, “I mean no harm. And besides. I merely seek to satiate some curiosity. Would it be so audacious of you to join me?” 

The second figure swallowed and looked at Aldren nervously, his breath shallow. “How far did you suppose this significant something you spied was, then?” He glanced back the way they’d come, his sullen green eyes darting back and forth. “I mean, if it’s not too far. We’ve already traveled so far from home" Tenanus and Grodunin wouldn’t want to have to fret on our behalf.” 

“Of course, my dear Benae, it was but a few hundred feet from here, if I recall correctly. You needn’t worry yourself in the least.” Aldren looked to his friend Benae with that same, devilishly enchanting smile. 

Try as he might, Benae couldn’t help but return with his own smile, though smaller and significantly less dazzling, if not a might less grandiose.

“I grow bored of these same grassy plains again and again; no matter how far we go,” Aldren began as he sidled his way forward. “You can well imagine why I’d spot these rocks so far ahead.” 

That was odd, Benae realized with a start; he hadn’t recalled seeing any rocks in the immediate vicinity at all. Hadn’t Aldren muttered something about it being “but a few hundred feet”? He looked about him, squinting his eyes even, but as far as he looked he could see no rocks. But then what reason did Aldren have to lie? 

Alas, wait" there were some dark shapes in the vast ocean of green about him, but far, far into the distance. Not so short a distance. 

Benae brushed a strand of dark blonde hair behind a slender, pointed ear. As an eladrin of higher standing within his community, he was a naturally intuitive fellow; as were the lot of elves; though Benae was particularly intuitive, even for his kind. Be it hereditary or merely something the young elf had picked up along the road, his propensity for catching things that most others didn’t was one of his better qualities.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the most strapping of his kind; and he was well aware of this fact. While he wasn’t all too bothered by it, it was cause for the slightest trace of self-consciousness, and it was this self-consciousness that often made him put a check on the things he saw. Sadly, this was the obstacle that held Benae’s intuitiveness in check" and ultimately held back what could have been a strong leader.

“Aldren, you beholder of untruth, what lies do you offer?” he boldly accused, a slight quiver to his words as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Aldren cocked his head. “Lies? Alterer of the truth, perhaps, but liar? I think not,” he dismissed, ending with an unconcerned chuckle. 

Benae frowned deeply, but had no other choice but to drop the matter then and there, for Aldren halted suddenly, dropping his tone to an alarmingly low level as he spoke. “What have we here? By the gods, this is amazing!” 

Benae turned his head to look as well, and the prospects weren’t pleasant. They were, in fact, sickening. 

Before them lie the broken, rotting remains of two fallen warriors who must have perished at one another’s hands. It was a wonder the carrion stink hadn’t alarmed them already, for when they approached, it struck them profoundly. 

Benae recoiled and looked away, his face displaying the disgust he so obviously felt.

“Indeed, it is amazing,” Aldren continued unabashed. “This is far more interesting than the rocks I intended to study. Look at these weapons; they remain in pristine condition. Do you know the worth of fine weapons such as these?” The tall elf paused, then, as though pondering something he’d just remembered. “I’ve always had half a mind to become a soldier, you know. It doesn’t strike me as too difficult, after all. My meaning, what is it to kill another creature? It’s all too easy.” 

Benae backed away, a sudden wave of nausea overcoming him. “I feel… sick…”

Aldren ignored him. “Yes, a soldier. I quite like the sound of that.” He stared at the broken remains before him. “I think it to be my calling… My lot in this existence, if you will.” Aldren moved closer, bending down that he might better scrutinize. “A warrior so mighty the sun itself shrinks at the sound of his name. Aldren the Grande, to slay those who might threaten our beloved kingdom of Dana’Aeve!” He was shouting now, the resulting echo hissing its consent for many miles. 

Aldren reached forward and hoisted the blade at his feet, whipping it in the air at an invisible assailant. “It is beautiful. This weapon suits me. I shall claim it for myself, I think.” He spent several moments examining the fine weapon; from its long, slender hilt to its crystalline blade. Indeed, it was a fine weapon. It was as though what must have been years after the death of its master had been nothing; as far as anyone else knew it could have been recently forged.  

He turned then, addressing Benae directly for the first time in what seemed like several minutes. “Pick up the other one, then.”                    

Benae turned to regard him with a stunned expression. “W-what?”

“I instructed you to pick up the other weapon.”

Benae hesitantly turned to regard the rotting flesh at his feet, his pale skin flushing to a shade of green. “I don’t see why this is"”

“Trust me, my friend. See me out.” 

He didn’t know what else to do other than to obey, and obey Benae did. Shakily the elf took ahold of the second weapon, whose blade was taller and ended with a sharp point: a rapier. “What now, Aldren?” 

“Now, we do battle.” Aldren’s ensuing grin was wickedly enormous, and Benae quickly found himself at a loss for words. 

Aldren didn’t seem to care. With a light shrug, the taller elf brandished the blade in his hand and rushed forward swiftly, striking with the butt-end first. Benae, startled, cried out in alarm, and was hardly able to bring to bear the rapier a moment before their blades clashed, knocking him backwards and toppling him to the ground. Benae hadn’t expected Aldren to strike so hard, thus his weapon quickly slipped from his nimble grasp. 

“What are you doing?” Benae cried, obviously distraught. “I am your companion; what good would it do to kill me?” 

“Kill you? Where would the challenge be, then?” 

A flush of anger reached forth its hand to pull Benae to his feet. “You b*****d.” 

Aldren laughed harshly. “We’re all fuel for the flames, friend; nothing more. You must fuel your own fire!”

Benae brushed a stray lock of hair behind an ear, tightly gripping the rapier as his breath became louder. “Have you ever brandished a weapon before in your life?” 

“Never.” 

“Me either.” 

“Shall we fight, then?” 

“Very well.” 

The two snarled and swung their weapons; Aldren’s in a high arc and Benae’s with an underhand sweep. 

Benae’s rapier was a might taller than Aldren’s sword, whilst Aldren’s sword was significantly heavier than Benae’s rapier. Their skills (or lack thereof) were quite matched, and they traded blows between one another until it was clear there would be no victor. They soon fell to the ground with labored gasps and dropped their respective weapons. 

By then, the sun had long traveled from directly above their heads to the western horizon far, far away, casting elongated shadows behind their resting frames. 

Benae was the first to sit up after what must have been a long while. His breath was still labored, though significantly less than it had been previously. 

“It grows late.” 

Aldren sat up then as well. “And the night is young.”

“What do you imply?” 

Aldren turned a haggard face away from Benae to watch the horizon, whose orange rays glowed significantly. “It is obvious we are evenly matched. As this is no longer an issue between us, I merely suggest…” He paused a moment and turned again to face Benae. “We must seek live prey.” 

Benae’s green eyes widened. “Y-you want to what?” 

“It would be pointless for you and I to continue battling one another such as we have been. I already grow weary at the thought of it. Such droll tidings are not what I have in mind when I think of excitement.” Aldren was standing now. “Believe it or not, I’ve kept track of our position since we took our leave of the city, and it has come to my attention that we near the Dragoncurve Valleys.

“Home to hostile creatures a-plenty, it is a prime nesting ground for some much-sought battle.” 

“And it is a fool’s errand. Prior to today, neither of us have ever brandished weapons. We’ll be killed.” 

“Not if we’re clever,” Aldren replied smugly. “Wise, perhaps not; but clever, clever I can do.”

“I don’t like it,” Benae insisted. “We should go home. Tenanus and Grodunin must be worrying themselves to death.”

“Do what you wish. I know what I intend to do. I leave it up to you to decide if you’d like to join me.”

There was silence.

“You fool, you don’t make it easy to disagree with you, do you?” 

Aldren grinned. “You’re coming then?” 

“Of course.”  

With nothing else to say, they took up their weapons and began walking. Very soon they began to notice the thickening of trees about them, and the darkening of the night as the forest engulfed them. The calls of nameless nocturnal creatures echoed throughout the wood, and a chill coursed down Aldren’s determined though nonetheless doubtful spine. Benae’s growing fear began to culminate as the forest thickened about them, and it was growing darker still.     

“I don’t think I have the heart for this,” Benae began, but Aldren quickly silenced him with a wave. 

“Be still!” Aldren whispered. “I hear something.” 

With a look of confirmation, the taller elf sidled forward a bit and crouched behind some thick shrub a few feet away. Benae stayed behind, a doubtful expression donned. 

To his horror, something shifted in the brush a short distance away, though it was too dark to see what specifically. Benae froze. Aldren was moving. He watched as his companion began moving, his blade at the ready. With a cry, he leapt at the source of the movement.

There was a hiss and an angry snarl, and Aldren cried, “Benae! Aid me!” 

Benae froze again. He wanted to move, to help his companion, but found his limbs wouldn’t respond. His heart pounded relentlessly in his chest; he couldn’t do it. 

“Ah, but you think you’re strong, don’t you?” Aldren hollered as he struggled with the creature. Benae heard what sounded like a blow to someone’s flesh, and could just barely make out the outline of Aldren’s rising blade. There was a last, feeble curse from the creature, and the blade came down in a swift arc. The creature fell to the ground with a gurgle.

“Many thanks for your help,” Aldren said when he returned a moment later. 

Benae gazed open-mouthed at the sword Aldren had trailed behind him. Dark blood coated the upper half of the blade, leaving a line of the glinting liquid behind in its wake. Nausea overcame him, and Benae felt quite keenly as though he would be sick. 

Sick he promptly was; all about Aldren’s boots.     

“What was that?” he asked when he’d finished, bent over Aldren’s feet. 

“Goblin. Very ugly goblin.” 

“And you… you killed it?” 

“With ease.” Aldren seemed ecstatic. “We must seek more. That was brilliant. That was so damned… fulfilling.”

Benae began to rise. “No. No more. We need to leave.”

The taller elf gripped him tightly by the shoulder and grunted, “We need to kill.”

For a moment, reality seemed still. Then Benae boldly brought forth a hand with which to slap Aldren clean across the face. Aldren didn’t respond for a long while. Finally he slowly began to turn his head. The only indication of the blow to his face was the red imprint across his pale cheek; otherwise, Aldren’s expression had hardly changed. 

He was, in fact, smiling; that same, wicked smile that meant so much more than joy. It signified impending insanity, Benae knew; it signified doom. 

He needed to leave.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t leave his friend; couldn’t venture into the darkness about him without the aid of Aldren, who, for the entirety of their journey, had guided him efficiently. He was trapped. He had no choice. 

Without Aldren, Benae knew beyond any wandering doubt, he was nothing but a lost, broken soul. He could argue, he could present argument, he could take anything Aldren said and dismiss it entirely, but no matter what, his freedom would always be restricted to nothing. Benae was trapped in a prison of his own doing. 

Aldren knew it, too. 

“Come on, then, my beloved Benae; come with me. Many joys have we to experience, you and I.”

Benae could only slowly nod. 

Aldren brought up his blood-stained sword and began a steady trot, his eagerness evident. Benae followed as best he could, if not as far distanced as possible. 

“There is smoke afoot!” Aldren whispered hoarsely. “More fodder! It must be a goblin encampment. I can hear the bestial hissing of their language. It can be none other than goblins, I swear to it.”

He raced along faster now, dodging thick brush and leaping above the giant roots typical of the grande oak trees about them. Benae was hard-pressed to follow, and soon enough, his foot caught on a root and he came tumbling to the hard dirt ground. He lie there stunned for several moments. 

Benae glanced about himself in alarm, searching desperately for his companion. Aldren had long vacated the immediate area; that much was obvious; though he couldn’t have gone too far. Benae knew there wasn’t much time. He looked about him again and located the smoke Aldren had previously indicated. He must’ve gone that way. 

Taking ahold of the rapier, the nervous elf was quick to dart in that direction, tumbling through the trees. He began to near the area he knew the smoke to be, and sure enough a faint, orange-white glow emanated from the bushes beyond. Benae could just barely make out the forms of figures delicately attending to the flames, apparently warming themselves.

Alas, when he glanced about him, he could see Aldren’s slender frame hidden in back of yonder bush. Whence eye contact was made, Benae bowed his head in acknowledgement, and motioned for Aldren to make contact. They proceeded to rendezvous at the base of a thick oak tree between their previous positions.

“This is it, Benae; this is our moment. We’ve never known what we were missing in our lives,” Aldren began. “But I’ve found my calling. You and I; we’ve never carried swords in our lives, yet look at us now! We’re warriors, friend, and it’s of our own doing!” 

Benae paused a moment to let the words sink in. He was about to nod, to agree hungrily, but then something overcame him. He realized something then that he wouldn’t have accepted only a few hours back.

Aldren wasn’t the friend he’d thought him to be. He wasn’t trustworthy or brave; hell, he wasn’t even all that clever. He was just another lost soul with too much to learn. Aldren was a fool, and so was Benae for following him.

 He was finished. Done with Aldren, done with following others. At the rate he was going, he’d end up being led to his own doom. He’d rather die at the hand of a stranger than by the example of his own brother.

“There is no we, Aldren; only you,” he began, bringing up the rapier in his slender hand. “This is all your doing; it always has been.” 

Aldren seemed stricken for a moment. Then he laughed; the quietest laugh he could muster without alarming the figures he was about to attack. He hardly seemed concerned, or even offended. “Look at you, Benae! You’ve flowered!” Aldren reached out an arm and patted his shoulder. “Go home, then.” 

He left then with no other words spoken. Benae watched in amazement as Aldren scurried forth, inching ever closer to the flames, the smoke, and his prey. He pitied Aldren. What had come over him these last few days?  

Ah, but what did it matter, anyway? It was all over. He could go home. There were no more mental barriers; that was a shell he’d at long last broken into pieces and crawled away from. He meant to go; to be rid of the force that had plagued the young elf for far too long.

A passing thought stopped him a moment, though. There was one last thing he wanted to see before he left Aldren for good. Something within nagged at him; he had to understand what Aldren would do. Benae moved to follow the taller elf very slowly, never coming within fifteen feet of him. He watched as Aldren paused and ducked one last time under a bush uncomfortably close to the encampment, and Benae halted then, too, hiding himself behind another grande oak tree that he might watch the scene about to unfold. The figures there weren’t quite visible; it seemed their fire had diminished a bit since he and Aldren had first spotted the camp. They were strange-looking, though; not much like any goblins he’d ever seen. Perhaps they were some sort of goblin-cousin, some race he’d not yet had the misfortune to encounter. 

But then it hit him. 

These weren’t goblins. They couldn’t have been. They were too tall; too muscular. There was little stoutness about them; in fact, their features were far more familiar. He had to warn Aldren"

He was too late. 

With a primal cry of victory, Aldren leapt into the group with his sword held high. Surprised cries rang out, as well as the clang of metal upon metal a moment later. Benae couldn’t see" he went to his hands and knees and crawled closer, trying to reach a better vantage point with which to watch. He reached the bush Aldren had been huddled in and sat up a bit, peering into the chaos.

Aldren was fighting like he’d never seen before, with all the willpower he could muster, but it wasn’t enough. Their skills were far superior. He squinted at the other figures, trying to catch their faces, trying at least to identify them; but they were too swift; their frames shot back and forth quicker than Aldren could’ve brought up his sword to defend himself. It was a wonder they hadn’t dropped him already. 

After several intense moments one finally stayed a moment long enough for him to see clearly the outline of their face" and his heart nearly stopped. 

They were elves, like he.

Apparently Aldren realized this about the same time as he" for he halted a moment and lowered his weapons. “Bretheren!” he cried, quick to lower his blade. “My apologies; had I known fellow eladrin were about, I’d not have…” His voice trailed off as they neared him, their weapons held defensively high. 

They weren’t high elves such as Benae and Aldren. Their skin was tanner, their silken hair a luminescent silver that reflected moonlight" these were the evil cousin of the eladrin. 

Enari silver elves.

Benae watched in horror as the tallest elf he’d ever seen came to the front of the group. Swifter than lightning he dispatched Aldren; staggering him with several blows to the face and chest. It was as though magic danced in that enari’s hands; before Benae knew naught else, they’d drawn blades and moved just before Aldren’s frozen frame. He was no match. Benae looked into his companions fear-drenched eyes and knew" only now had Aldren realized his fault. 

The enari with the seemingly enchanted hands motioned the others to move back and withdrew a wicked-looking dagger. It shot forth and swept across Aldren’s exposed neck in what seemed like an instant.   

Aldren fell to his knees clutching at his throat. Blood ran down his fingers; the enari’s dagger holding only a trace of blood atop its tip to show for it. 

Aldren soon fell lifeless to the earth.

Benae cried out without thinking" then snapped a hand to his mouth in alarm. They’d heard him. They must have. 

He Leapt to his feet and turned to run, as fast and as far as he could, not even bothering to snatch up the rapier he’d left behind at the grande oak tree. He tumbled across roots and low-hanging branches alike, stumbling forth as fast as his limbs would allow for.

It wouldn’t be enough; he could hear their forms cutting through the woods like it was nothing. 

A low-hanging branch the size of his head cut into his shoulder, tearing the cloth from his shoulder and biting into his flesh. Pain flecked him like nothing he’d ever felt previously, and Benae stopped short, gasping for breath. He looked about him, looked  everywhere he could think, but there were no silver elves. He felt just slightly better about his chances of surviving"

A moment before something struck him on the back of his head and his eyesight was overtaken by an overwhelming vision of stars. 

Benae had the vaguest notion that he was being dragged away; felt the earth moving away beneath him. Then words of power were spoken in a language dissimilar to the elven he spoke, and he was lifted to his feet. His vision cleared" 

And before him loomed the grandest structure he’d ever seen. It shone a luminescent black, and it must have gone on for a mile or beyond. He couldn’t tell. 

Suddenly Benae took notice of the group of enari silently watching his every movement. He tried to move, to run away, but it seemed as though he were bound by chains invisible to him. He was standing on his feet yet he couldn’t move; he was trapped beyond all hope.

One of the silver elves said something he couldn’t understand, and Benae shook his head in confusion. With a nod to the other enari, the elf stepped forth and cleared his throat. 

“Cousin eladrin, you trespass in the wrong woods.” The elf’s accent was thick, and his words seemed forced, as though somehow they didn’t belong in the mouth they were being given shape to. “For Master Ninama!” 

The next Benae knew the elf was racing towards with a crazed glint in his sullen grey eyes. He was struck once" his face snapped hard into that direction" twice" he was beginning to lose feeling entirely" thrice" and he knew naught else. 

The last he recalled before the world swam away was the haunting image of the structure he’d previously awoken to, with dark walls that matched the night, and wicked spires that marked impending doom. 

Nothing else.    

  

                 

Author's Note

This is very rough, and I haven't edited much of it, besides nitpicking at it as I wrote it. Otherwise, it's relatively untouched. Let me know what you think.

ALSO! Writerscafe always bugs the holy crap out of me when it takes all my hyphens and replaces them with "s. Try to ignore them if they bug you too.

Reviews

[Drako]

this was an interesting read. i'm curious as to how the story will go, since these aren't the main characters. still, it is an impressive start, despite some grammatical errors. i look forward to reading it as you progress

[Dingo the Archwizard of..]

I'll add an edited version soon enough.