Exiled

[Ikuar]

There were crumbs in the palm of his left hand, his right hand holding up an empty bag. Just last night there had been one last loaf of bread, not even a whole loaf. It had been the very end and he must have eaten every morsel. Pierce dropped the empty bag on the ground in defeat. That was it, his rations had been used up and there was nothing left for him to eat. The crumbs on his hand were not even enough to have texture on his tongue, so he did not bother embarrassing himself. He shook the crumbs out of his palm and adjusted his tattered cape. How many days had it been? Five? One hundred? The nights seemed endless and the days were hot despite the shading of many trees.
Lips chapped, Pierce looked around in exhaustion hoping to find something to eat or drink. He already knew that his water rations were at the last drops. In a forest like this he was amazed that he had not yet come upon a river or even a small stream. It seemed that the whole world around him was dead of possibilities.

Did exiles normally live such nomadic lives? He had never been outside the city walls and had no idea where he was going - the curse of a man raised in the lap of luxury. Pierce attempted to ignore the growling of his stomach as his mind recalled the bread he carelessly indulged on the evening before. His head felt light and his body suddenly felt as though it weighed much - the world around him was spinning. Poison? No, that would make little sense... he had not even eaten anything. It was the first time in his life that he'd ever felt so much hunger. What did they call it? He knew he had heard the term used for one a person was starved and thirsty.

Pierce stumbled over his own feet and tried to catch himself but in the end he fell to the ground. A cool breeze sent leaves whipping over his back and he closed his eyes.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

A rusty giggle woke Pierce from his troubled sleep. He lifted his head stiffly. The delicious rays of the dawn filtered through the somber pines. There sitting on a limb, midway up an ancient pine, draped in sagging moss, was a small woman, dressed in a dark green tunic. She wore leggings and pointed slippers that were the same grim color. Her hair was white, and fastened by a curiously twisted brown cord into a large bun upon the top of her delicate round head. In her ruddy hand she held a glass ball that flickered with the light of the rainbow.

[Ikuar]

Pierce could not tell if he was hallucinating. The hunger and dehydration most certainly had taken a toll on his weary body, but he managed to work up enough energy to sit. He pushed himself up and strained to keep his eyes open, the sun was still too bright through the leaves of the trees and it was sort of difficult to make out the person because of that.

"Am I seeing things?" His voice came out broken, throat dry from lack of water. "Perhaps I am knocking at death's door." He mused, then proceeded to cough haphazardly. The violent coughs ripped at his dry throat and he had some difficulty catching his breath.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

The creature in green started. Her laugh melted from her lips and she looked with pity upon the fallen man. Climbing with grace out of the tree, she approached Pierce. Opening her shining ball, she withdrew a amber vial, and removing its red cork, held it out to the spluttering man.

[Ikuar]

What was that? Pierce wondered how much of this was a fevered dream. With real logic, he would have known better than to take a strange vial from an even stranger person. However, his dehydration was making demands.
If it was poisoned it would just end his suffering, that was fine by him. Pierce carefully gripped the vial and studied it. The cool glass did feel very solid. In hindsight, he thought that he should have asked how much to drink, but that never crossed his hazy mind.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

After Pierce had drained half of the vial, the strange woman in green motioned vigorously to him to cease drinking the amber liquid. She spoke in a high pitched voice in a foreign tongue which sounded like water flowing over smooth stones.

[Ikuar]

Pierce stopped, but was really confused as to what she was rambling about. He'd never spoken to anyone in other languages before, though he knew a few. He tried to recall the little bit of Elvish he knew.
"Sorry." He reached out to hand it back to her, still extremely puzzled but not feeling any worse or any better.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

She smiled hopefully at him as she corked the vial and placed it back in her leather bag. "Bretter... it vill helf...?" she said breaking back into elvish. Noticing that Pierce didn't recover she gave him a handful of small silver berries from her bag and then offered him her slender arm.

[Ikuar]

Pierce ate a few of the foreign berries and then stood up slowly, regaining some sense of energy as he grabbed her arm for support. She seemed rather strong and energetic, but due to his sheltered life he couldn't even fathom where he was or where she might have come from despite knowing that she was obviously Elven.

"I only know a little Elvish." He admitted slowly, "Unfortunately, not enough to communicate properly..." He felt like a sorry nobleman, most knew enough to talk politics, but he'd slacked off since his older brother was the heir.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

She patted her shoulder indicating that he need not fear leaning against her arm if he needed to.

They walked through the dark pine forest till the sun shone a bloody orange in the west. Pierce slipped and fell often, and though the elf would giggle in astonishment at his clumsiness, she never failed to help him to his feet.

[Ikuar]

"Where are we going?" Pierce asked when he discovered that he sun was beginning to set. "I really wish I had studied harder when learning Elvish. I apologize that I cannot understand you." He noticed that she found him humorous and began to wonder what about himself was so hysterical. "You could be leading me to my death for all I know... and here I am just blindly following you. I must be losing my mind."

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

"You...va..varrior coorect?" said the elf.
"Yes I am, I'm a prince also," replied Pierce.
The elf laughed, but strangely the forest did not swallow her laugh. It echoed throughout the forest as if she had laughed in a stone canyon. She shook her delicate head and stared at the tree tops. "Vit dagerous heere. Vust me. Mye foouse vat waey." She pointed toward straight ahead.

Pierce noticed that they were near the forest's edge which ended in a high jagged cliff.

[Ikuar]

"So... is there a path we will be taking?" Pierce asked, his voice was shrinking at the sight of the cliff... heights were not his forte. "Because I have never gone on any journeys like this and I'm not surefooted - especially not now." There was a part of him that was almost sure she had no idea what he was saying. "Maybe there is a way around this?"

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

Letting Pierce's arm go, the elf walked up to the cliff's edge. Spreading her arms she leaped from the crumbling edge into the clear air which filled a vast valley far below.
"See?" said the elf. She pointed northwest to a little cottage which clung to the canyon's side a fathom below.

[Ikuar]

Was it just his head or was the entire gorge spinning out of control? One, she was flying, and two he wondered... did she think that he could? He stepped back a little to let his head clear up from all of the spinning. Unfortunately, his two steps were not nearly enough to keep him from falling as the ground crumbled right beneath his feet.

So the potion was not what killed him. The elf wasn't what killed him... it would be falling straight to his death. He couldn't even find the energy to scream as he was falling!

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

Odila seeing Pierce falling with the crumbly earth and stone, immediately flew under him holding out her arms in hopes that she would stop his fatal descent.
"Argg," she grunted as Pierce fell into her arms like a sack of potatoes. Yet she did not drop him. Gritting her teeth she bobbed up and down cork-like in the twilight. After a arduous ten minutes of torn muscles, and bitter sweat, the elf laid the man beside the door of her cottage.

[Ikuar]

Pierce was white as a sheet and staggered to get himself upright once she'd set him down. "I apologize!" He spoke before he could really consider his words and soon he realized he'd just apologized for nearly falling to his death. He had really inconvenienced her... so it was worth apologizing for.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

Odila rubbed her arms gingerly. She motioned for Pierce to remain still as she opened the door of the cottage. Bright crystal white light streamed from the open door. Odila knelt three times on the threshold before a heavy somber voice beckoned for her to enter. Casting a reassuring glance at Pierce, Odila went inside the cottage leaving the chalk white door slightly cracked.

[Ikuar]

Pierce followed her, not really expecting what he was seeing. He gazed upon the light and shielded his eyes, somewhat fearful at first. But her reassurance somehow beckoned him further into the white space.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

"What is the meaning of this?" said the dark somber voice in the language of men. A tall powerful creature sat upon a ivory chair adorned with clear dark blue stones. The creature was the source of light that radiated throughout the cottage.
Odila ran to Pierce and endeavored to push him back outside.
"Odila, replied the voice in the elvish tongue, "Has that earthling no respect?"
"Father, I found him in the woods today. He is a prince, though because I cannot speak his language, I do not know why he has wandered so far from the settlements of men."
"Indeed, though it is no small wonder Odila. Put him outside and close the door, so I may decide his fate in peace." replied the creature.

[Ikuar]

Pierce stood outside of the cottage confused. Why did she bring him there just to toss him back out? He sighed heavily and gazed the other direction, trying to pick himself up and drag himself off. Perhaps another village would not be too far for him. He did have a bit of adrenaline left from falling, so he would just keep moving.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

"Vere, vou goo?" Odila called to Pierce. She stood midway between Pierce and the door which she carefully remembered to shut. Her brow was creased with anxiety.

[Ikuar]

Pierce turned around, "I thought that this was the end of the line... are there any villages near here? Ah... and thank you for helping me get this far and also for saving my life." He rubbed the back of his neck, also feeling anxious. The air around the cottage was tense and he wished to get far away... but the elf looked almost sad.

[Wynmaeg of Midgard]

Knitting her brow she sighed, straining to understand Pierce. "Veer savfe heerve," she said. Thrusting her tiny hand in his, she motioned to the door and took a step toward it.

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