In the beginning

I kept one ear on the conversation between Dathyn and Elwe, and the other on our surroundings.
The light, still near, seemed to me, be pulsing. Maybe this was just how i saw it, the individual elfs that were in the clearing had there own energy signature. Like different flavours of ice cream.
Seeming the energy i was taking had no effect on these elfs, with the encouragement of one already fat companion i upped the intake, concentrating on one of the energy signatures i began a quick, unrelenting drain on it.
Bahamut purred deep inside, the sound resonating through my body, making me feel like a tuning fork, causing an involentary outward shudder.

The light on the ground may mimic the sun, but however the sky is dark, diamond stars scattered in the deep blue.

In a split second Dathyn moved to the other side of the clearing, leaving me visably out in the open. A second later i shifted back to being behind him, using his bigger form to shield my own again.

I gave Dathyn a soft mental nudge " Do not move, we are going to be doing some digging. We curious to see where the Elfs get there energy from" However is wasn't only my voice that spoke, Bahamut added his own deep soft inhuman rummbles to the mix.

Using the darkness Dathyn has already called, and the energy that was so abundant in supply, i created a veil of shadow mist. Dark and torrid, resembling the dark choppy waters of the sea on a stormy night.
Crouching down close to the ground, i cast on more sense about myself, making a mentaal not on the location of each Elf withing range, then pulling off my gloves i tucked them into one of the many pockets inside my cloak.

Swiftly i burried my fingers into the soft rich earth, pushing past the numerous blades of grass to find the soil, driving down untill my hands were submerged to the knuckles.
My eyes closed, replying on Dathyn to be my eyes and ear while i sent myself into the flow and ebb of energy in this young planets core.

Do not move, we are going to be doing some digging. We curious to see where the Elfs get there energy from Kitsune's thought traced lightly through Dathyn's mind, but it was not just hers; accompanying her mental signature was something else. Something alien. Animalistic. A sub-linguistic sending of enigmatic emotions. Come and gone too quickly to fully discern, the only thing Dathyn could be sure of is that it was Kitsune's draconic companion.

Feeling the futile tug of Elven minds attempting to break his tendrils, he allowed them to remove them, to better enable Kitsune to see the energy source the Energy Elves drew on.

Standing still, Dathyn waited silently for the (comparatively) young elf to continue her self deluding monologue, the Aether Gauntlet disappearing back into his hand, it having no use for now.

Sensing their master's desire for inactivity, the Shadow Hounds lay down, their eyeless visages staring out across Orome, ever watchful for potential threats.

With my co-ordinates planned, I set off into the forest, hoping to find myself into a clearing, and importantly, to get help...

The sun set, though I had spent hours trawling around this wild maze, with no hope to find where ever I was. The faster the sun settled away, the faster I was losing vision on where I was going. It would be dark soon, and I have no safe haven to retreat into, giving me closure and security to the unknown threats that the forest can provide. There was no point on trying to find a way out of the forest, I must have gone deeper into the forest by accident or walked around in circles, either way, I had to find myself somewhere to sleep for the night, the cold air rushing down, attacking my bruised body, trying to chill me to the bone, the clouds raging with thunder, as rain started to trickle into the forest, the quantity and the speed of the rain forever intensifying, attacking me as I weakly run through the woodland, scrambling to find somewhere to hide from this callous streak of nature.

That is, until something caught my eye...

As I glance to my right, I see an opening in a mound of land, a cave, its rocky jagged edges, like the teeth of a wild animal, ready to ensnare anything for its meal. What may have looked terrifying in this climate, was the nearest thing I had to survive my first night. I ventured in, dragging my soggy feet into the cave, at long last the rain and the wind no longer attacking me,it was still cold, but at least the rain could get me no more. Although I was freezing to the bone, fatigue and exhaustion had finally caught up with me, my heavy eyes falling, breathing heavily, trying to keep myself awake...

With Dathyn’s female accomplice stood back behind him, his hounds lay down and the aether glove disappears.

Dathyn is stood there, not making any further attacks, his silence in voice and action is nice, I wonder for a moment if it can be trusted. Keeping myself strong and decisive, I take a look at the situation from my people’s views; some of them are interested in a human that has appeared in our land, many miles to the south east of here.


Kitsune is a beacon of energy; my people have notice and have tried to draw on it. Her energy is guarded, protected somehow. We know it is there but cannot use it. This is most peculiar. Information on how we have been trying to tap into it and failed is being passed to me.

Deciding I would look into that later and would deal with the now I turn my attention to Dathyn.

“I don’t know how great you knowledge of history is, but before you were born, or even before I was born there were people studying the future and expanding on their abilities, pushing the boundaries of their beings, becoming something different.”

“One of these people was already a powerful witch; sadly witches in those days were not fully conversant in the measures of life preservation and the ability to keep themselves youthful. Sorry I am deviating from topic a little here. This witch had seen into the future and travelled many miles to warn me of what was to happen, she showed me the outcomes of various actions.”

“Sadly none of the actions I would have liked to of done had any positive outcomes. And this has led us to here.”

Pushing my mental self into the earth, i searched. We searched. Flew through large and small tentrils of energy, jumping from one line to the next.
Bahamut, reluctantantly, parted and began his own search throught the tendrils, growling back reports of Leylines.

A small nagging feeling on the edge of my senses, like someone trying to get in, the feeling of something trying to 'steal' my energy, energy that i have gathered. Perhaps they did not understand that this is what kept me, im some sense 'alive' Or perhaps i was the biggest source of energy in the area?

There was no 'one' person who had tried to drain me, but the feeling of a group.
I called Bahamut back to me, who, seemed almost gratefull to be allowed back into his shelter, he rummbled softly, almost lovingly to me while i pulled myself out of the earth, back to my own body.
Wiping the earth from my hands i sent out a sharp shards of unelemental energy, shaping it to resemble a small blue lightning bolt. Seeking out any drainers, a warning to back off. This is mine.

Now to address why i had been so easily found, while i was still gobbling up energy my shields, unused to the sudden intake had become....Transparent, still unpenetrable, but i got the impression i glowed.
Pulling my gloves bck on with sharp tuggs i pulled my mental shields inwards, forming a tighter barrier between us and them, imagining walls of ice cold black diamonds, giving only the reflections of the would be trespassers.
Again, i was unsensed, cold and dead, safe.

Dathyn stood impassively as Elwe spoke about witches and seers, all the while he could feel Kitsune on the edge of his senses. She was absorbing a rather large amount of energy from the watchful energy elfs.

Kitsune sharply brought her shielding wards up, almost cutting contact off from Dathyn entirely. If not for their mental link, Kitsune would likely have been completely invisible to Dathyn. Energy arced out from the petite female, lancing like lightning towards several elfs. Dathyn didn't bother to see if any were hit or harmed by the act, Elwe held his attention, for now.

"...none of the actions I would have liked to of done had any positive outcomes. And this has led us to here.” Elwe concluded.

"People will always seek the future," Dathyn began, calmly. "Most find it to be less certain than they would like. I am presuming that this seeress had something to say about me, or someone sounding enough like me to cause you to attack me? May I ask what her prophecy was?"

I can not see very well but I can hear Mayra knows where everything is even if she is struggling to see as much as me.

I have stayed exactly where she told me, I have not even moved a muscle, apart from my eyes moving trying to adjust and distinguish the various objects you would think I was a statue.

My eyes pick up a staircase to my right, opposite the door, a wooden hand rail with supports at every other step. The staircase is the entire width of the entrance hall I am stood in, which is probably big enough for 2 people to stand 2 a breast no more. The door we came through is still on my right and there is an archway in front of me, beyond the archway is a room, I can hear Mayra moving about in this room.

I take a step forward into the archway; there is a large bay window on the left wall allowing a lot of light into the room. The room is very minimalistic in nature, there is a window seat in the bay window, below a large chest made of pinewood and held together with big black iron bolts.

The rest of the room has 3 large sofas and in the corner of the room there is a burro. the three sofa’s sit in a box around the fire place, a coffee table in the centre resting on a rug.

Mayra is knelt in front of the fire where the crackling sounds of a small fire catching are emanating from. The smell of burning wood wafts its way towards me as the light from the flames dance on the walls and ceiling casting its brightness out. Mayra has a small stack of wood logs sat in the hearth, taking one from the top of the pile she places it on top of the burning stack of kindling, the flames lick the edges of the log turning it a dark charcoal. With in a few minutes it will have caught and a blazing fire will be in its place lighting the room as if it is the middle of the day.

Mayra stands up, and watches the flames for a moment, shivering. It is not cold, but the heat from the fire must cause her to feel a chill. I had not noticed until now but Mayra is stood there bare footed, knowing she was not barefooted in the shop I turn around to the hall which is now lit enough to see some paintings on the wall, a small shoe rack beneath a coat rack on the wall.

The coats are all female; each peg has at least one coat on it. I had not thought about Mayra’s Private life, but the last thing I would have expected was for her to be alone, no man in her life no children to help about the house and shop. Mayra appears at my shoulder, Yes you may hang your coat up on the peg and put your shoes on the rack.

I am thrilled she has not appeared to have misread my body language. It could have been embarrassing if she had of understood what I was really thinking.

I bend down to remove my footwear and see that not all the shoes on the rack are the same size. There appears to be slippers for small children and fully drown adult men as well as the ones for Mayra. All the shoes in Mayra’s size are on the top shelf and then the bottom two shelves are filled with the varying sized and coloured ones.

Mayra has lent over the top of me to put her coat on the hooks above me, as she returns to her usual height no longer on the balls of her feet she sigh’s, “oh if you have the preference of wearing slippers about the house there should be some in your size down there.” She says before she goes back into the living room.

I pull out the largest slippers on the rack, which are a deep blue and try them on my feet. They are a little big but they will do.

There is a carpet, which runs from the front door all the way up the stairs. Where I am stood the colour has gone, it’s very much a dirty brown, but as you follow it towards the stairs the colours of red and yellow and orange are clear, the carpet even gains a fluffy texture.

Turning towards the room Mayra disappeared into and rising to my feet in the same twisting action I realise she is not in the room any longer.

Between the wall with the beauro on and the back of the sofa’s is a door, this room looks much more impressive when lit like this, revealing all the pictures that had been hidden in the darkness, portraits of people and scenic pictures almost littered the walls.

I move out of the archway in which I had been stood and make my way to the only other door in the room. As I move closer the pictures on the same wall come into better view, the structure of the pictures and the fact they are all portraits is now apparent. It would seem that Mayra has set them up in the same way you would set up a family tree. There is a small plac beneath most of the ones on the far left hand corner, and most of the ones closest to the door are pictures of young children.

This is amazing, where I am from very few of us have worried about the family tree, the information on the family history dying with the ones who hold it.

I get closer to the wall, walking behind the sofa, which has its back to this wall. Some of the pictures, especially the ones furthest from the door, have more than one picture on it. The first portrait is nailed to the wall at each corner, and if another picture is added onto it has a hinge and you can lift it to reveal a painting of the person but younger.

Underneath each painting is a plac, on each plac you have a name, a date of birth, a date of death and finally a reference number.

Turning my attention back to the paintings, I can see the details of the brush strokes, you can even tell the different styles of painting, the artists who have painted these have not been the same person, in fact I would hazard a guess that there have been 4 or maybe even 5 different artists.

Kitsune was not this beacon of energy prior to her arrival, is she absorbing our energy?

Confirmation of this is relayed to me almost instantaneously. She stands up, puts her gloves on and appears to shield herself from us, she has stolen our earths energy and for what, self gain, she is not going to put it into anything, we deeply disapprove of this.

To add insult to injury she waste some of the energy in a blue bolt of light

“Your words imply uncertainty and error, I am sure you are aware from your previous deals with us that we do not act with out knowing the full extent of our actions.” In the length of time it take for someone to take a breath in I have lowered the intensity of the light and continued talking. “my actions were not an attack, they were preventing any of the damage you were set to behold. As far as I can tell it has worked. Though I must advise you proceed from here with caution and thought into what you do prior to proceeding with any action.

“ I hope that we shall not have to meet under such circumstances again. Dathyn I wish you a long and fruitful existence.”

“ I hope that we shall not have to meet under such circumstances again. Dathyn I wish you a long and fruitful existence.” Dathyn could not be sure of Elwe's tone, but her words certainly seemed dismissive.

Dathyn continued to gaze impassively from beneath his all-concealing hood at the elf, as if waiting for more. After a long moment of silence he spoke. "As you will. Since you will not tell me of this prophecy, I hope you will be sensible enough to leave me, and my business, alone in the future. In return, I will keep away from your wood."

The moment Elwe ceased to be the focus of Dathyn's attention the hounds of the Shadow Hunt blinked out of existence, not even a breeze to mark their passing.

I am ready to leave. Dathyn sent the thought to Kitsune, shielding their connection so that no one could possibly catch their conversation. Would you prefer to return to the point we left, or shall we go directly to the city?

"As you will. Since you will not tell me of this prophecy, I hope you will be sensible enough to leave me, and my business, alone in the future. In return, I will keep away from your wood."

His hounds disapear, on this I lower the light further, and return to my solid form, the animals who have been effected by the light will now returrn to normal, birds and rabbits will be the first to venture out..

“You should be aware that knowing the future is not something you should welcome, it has detrimental effects, knowing something changes it, I have worked hard to prevent the bad that was going to happen.” I have said this whilst moving to have Kitsune in sight, “Kitsune I am sure you know what I mean by the balance of life being fragile.” I hope kitsune will be back, there are many things to discuss, over a hotberry drink I am concerned about Gusano, I would like to hope he will be able to make something for himself here.

I get the feeling Datyn is not happy with my response, but the world requires him to be safe whether that means he does not like how I have had to deal with the situation then so be it.

Ooo a hot berry drink could be in order right now. There are not many berries left, roots are in abundance, a carrot soup would be fine, but I am desiring the taste of berries rather than roots.

A feast tomorrow night for everyone will be in order, I shall have the dwarfs and the pixies, the other elves and everyone invited. We shall enjoy the last ceremony of the Nisannu.

I find Mayra’s Picture, she must have had one done fairly recently as it looks just like her, the artist has been kind to her, where their may have been small wrinkles he has left them off, and if she had look as tired as she is now he has left out those details, in fact if the women in this picture was real you would have a perfect female in this world.

Now don’t get me wrong Mayra is gorgeous, she truly is, however she is human and real, and everyone has imperfections, today it is the tired look, she even has crows feet in the corners of her eyes, but it is all character and it is nice to see.

Mayra has re-entered the room, carrying 2 mugs of tea, the liquid is hot, the handle is the only safe place to hold the mug, however in the transfer of the mug from her to me, I end up touching the hot bits. We are both stood looking at the pictures sipping out drinks, the warmth spreading through us.
“Wow this is amazing, I have never seen anything like it.” I exclaim to which she nonchalantly responds, “it is not my work, I am the keeper of it” before she takes another sip of her tea.
“Will you be keeping it going?” a part of me is hoping her nonchalance is due to the long day rather than a actual dislike for the tree.
“A lot of the family died in a flue last winter and so there will not be much to do, especially since my son was one of the ones to be taken by the harsh winter.” Her sadness fills the room, frozen on the spot I try to change the topic. However Mayra seems to have more to say “my husband could not cope and he left, he did promise to support me and return one day, it has been over a year since he left. I miss him, I miss having a men about to help.” I can feel tears building for her, to loose her son and her husband, I can not see the dates of death below some of the newer pictures closer to doors, there were so many of them last winter.

I put my arm around her shoulders for comfort and after a few minutes of silence I say “I hope I can help, you just have to ask” she must have been crying silently to herself, she takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds and releases it. I give her shoulder a quick squeeze and drop it from her shoulder to my side, gulp down the last of my tea, she is walking into the kitchen, I follow.

‘Saesi eisi oraes shys sal saeri’
‘Look to the sun, it will light your way through darkness,’ Elder Sidorna whispered.
‘I said that you weren’t quite ready yet,’ in Moira’s voice.
‘Not in this life assassin, maybe in the next,’ Davril boomed.
‘No, Davril. Please nooo,’ the sound of a young woman pleading for her life, screaming.
Their faces began to spin round me, creating a blur of incoherent sound and colour. The noise was now unbearable and the spinning had started kicking up smoke, dust and sand, swirling round me. I fought to stay on my feet.

‘There are other worlds than these Umbrae’ the hooded figure now inches away from me whispered in an unfamiliar female voice, as everything fell silent and the spinning faces had dissappered, as had the dust cloud. I slowly started reaching for her hood to reveal this figure’s face. As soon as my fingers touched the rough black fabric of her hood a sudden deafening blood-curdling scream eminated from the hood as it lunged it’s horrific self at me.

I opened my eyes, panting heavily, staring at the last remaining embers of the fire, glowing their last pulses of life before one by one extinguishing. I realised I was sat bolt upright in the centre of the room rough rug in Moira’s house. I lifted one of my hands which was supporting myself upright off the floor and brushed it down my face. my face was dripping with sweat, possibly from the medicine, possibly from the nightmare. ‘Sweet dreams, yeah right,’ I thought to myself. I brushed my wet hand against my chest, expecting to find my shirt, but only finding bare skin. I looked down, only to see my bare chest and deep scar in the centre of it.

I glanced round the room for my shirt. After a short while I spotted it, dumped down next to Moira’s clothes at the bottom of her bed. I looked up to her face, which seemed to have a deep grin embedded in it; I couldn’t have. I pressed my hands into my head, trying to make sense of things but only coincidence seemed ratonal. I rolled onto my side and grasped for my shirt, streaching out the tight muscles down my side at the same time. My fingers grasped hold of the sleeve and I pulled it back smoothly as not to make a sound.

It was wet. Not just wet though. It felt as if it had been thrown in the river and lightly wrung out. Gingerly I brought the garment to my nose and inspected the strange fragrance aminating from it. It smelled mostly of the healing medicine that I put on my arm but a smooth lingering sweet smell also arose from it. Elderflower, maybe. I gave it one more sniff. Orchid. Most definitely orchid, probably the same as the one planted in the fountain flowerbed. As my body grew more awake, I tasted the dryness in my mouth. I looked around and saw a cut glass jug on the kitchen area work surface that was full of a clear liquid, probably water. I gently lifted myself off the floor, my knees clicking like snapping branches. I spun round to Moira, but the noise hadn’t woken her. It seems that she is quite a heavy sleeper. I made my way to the worktop where the jug was.

I took a glass from the shelf above and lifted the jug to pour its contents into my glass then into my eagerly awaiting mouth. The jug seemed light, compared to that of a full clay jug. I looked down into the jug to find it completely empty. Only a little dribble remained in the bottom. I brought the jug up to my dissapointed eyes to examine it closer. Upon closer inspection the rim seemed to create an optical illusion around the decorative ring around the neck, giving the illusion of it being full of a clear liquid. I sighed quietly to myself. I turned to my water pouches at the foot of Moira’s bed, but after a second of hope the cold hard truth of realisation had kicked in; they had been empty as I made my way into this town. Besides, they looked flat and empty; Moira hadn’t filled them in my absence.

I huffed a sigh of dispair. I looked back to the kitchen surface in hope for a water faucet near the sink, but found only a bucket for carrying water to the sink. I tried to look through the dusty window but the dirt blocked my vision. I used the side of my hand to wipe a small clean circle on the glass and peered out. Outside there was no movement, only the few mindless moths feeding their own light addiction from the torches, some coming too close to the flame and falling in little comets of fire to the floor.

Further down the alley was another brightly lit torch, illuminating the device I seek. One of the town’s water pumps. My morning’s optimism lifted.

Mayra’s Kitchen is similar in size to her living room, the only real difference is a section of it has been taken away for the pantry and the utility room. The utility room is more like a utility area, and alcove on the room, a wooden bucket that sat on the floor with the sides rising to the height of Mayra’s waist, a tap extended from the wall to the wooden structure, the tap was pump powered, the same as a village pump just inside the house, attached to the wall with the living room behind it, are metal poles, stretching from each side of the room, even going above your head if you were to stand at the wooden structure. I would guess these poles are for drying clothes when it is too wet to put them on a washing line outside, the final thing this room had was a wooden bench underneath the window which illuminated that area.

The fire place site under the stairs, a creamy coloured stone protects the stairs and the cast iron work which makes up the oven, the hobs, the whole fire place workings sits on a marble hearth. The back of the chimneybreast is black with the soot. The fire here has been going all day, having settled to a red glow until the Mayra had put a log to it for our tea, you could tell she had only just added it as it was still whole, still untouched by the flames, this room is really warm.

The pantry door is adjacent to the fire place. There must be a coal shed that way too, as there are three doors going out that way.

A long solid wood table probably made of pine takes up the centre of the room, pots and pans are on hooks on the wall, beneath and attached to the table in the centre of the room is cupboards and draws. Big wooden chopping boards sit on the surface of the table, four of them in total each with stains of different colours.

There is a work surface against the exterior wall with shelves below; there hardly seems a space in this kitchen that does not have something on it.

This kitchen seems as if it is filled with the ghosts of the past everywhere. In my minds eye I can see children running through to get to the garden or to have a dispute settled by one of the women working in the kitchen. There may even have been one of the young boys turning a spit roast.

The tug of this is evident on Mayra’s face, though she takes my mug from me and places it in the sink, the rattling ring of china on stone echo’s around the now empty room, she turns back to me with a smile, the memories and the feeling of emptiness being pushed from her, “are you ready for dinner then?” she asks positively glowing now. If you had just walked in you would never guess the previous topic of conversation. Trying to mimic her level of happiness I smile back, “yes what are we making?”
“Making?” Mayra laughs at me, a sweet laugh which is genuine “I do not have the energy to make, I have not cooked food since my husband left.” Now as she has mentioned it there is a layer of dust on everything “there is a lovely lady called Elizabeth who lives two streets away, she has extended her living room and turned it into a restuarant, I go there every evening”

I guess this explains how come she has been so excepting to have someone live with her, work for her, it is someone to talk to, someone who will be able to fill a gap in her life. I feel sorry for her loss, but I am pleased she has friends she is able to rely upon.

The nights still seem to be cold, the women who are out on the streets have there jackets on, it will not be long before there gloves and scarf are put away. I have never liked the winter, not because of the cold, that has not bothered me, but because of the dark colours we seem to feel compelled to wear. The summer comes and you can see reds and oranges, bright blues and yellows, warm colours, the winter are browns, blacks and blues, colours as dark and cold as the weather around.

Mayra was correct the restuarant was just two streets away. It glows a warm welcoming orange glow, the big bay windows a beacon of welcoming I am eager to get into. The warmth is almost visable, as we get closer I can see the steam on the windows confirming my thoughts of warmth, the steam works better than net curtains for providing privacy from prying eyes.

I blinked back into my awareness as Elwe came into my line of sight. My own features covered by my hood an the shadows i constantly kept there, blocking any curious lookers.

“Kitsune I am sure you know what I mean by the balance of life being fragile.”

I gave the Elf a nodd in acknowledgement as well as confirmation to her hope. Only one concealed thoughts from me here.
However, fragile was an understatment.

"This world is young, and most inhabitants, younger still. She is still learning, and looks to others to look after her well-being. We are hoping her trust is not miss-placed" Another brief nodd to Elwe.

"I am ready to leave. Would you prefer to return to the point we left, or shall we go directly to the city?" Daythns voice slid down the delicate connection.

"Perhaps the edge of the City to scout the area?"

Perhaps the edge of the City to scout the area? No sooner had Kitsune formed the words in her mind than she and Dathyn were gone from the clearing, disappearing without trace.

The moon hung in the sky, thin clouds scudding across its face like the sateen veils of a sand-dancer. Its light turned everything it touched to silver, and reduced that which it did not reach to ink.

Dathyn and Kitsune stood almost at the top of a ridge, nestling in the shade of a great basalt pillar. Its form implied that it had once been carved into the likeness of a man, although the immense weight of time had eroded much of the detail. Some forty-five feet further along the ride, there was a low block of stone, clearly the base of what was once a second pillar.

These two great blocks of stone once acted as motionless sentinels at the start of a road that led down the long slope into the valley below. More statues stood to either side of the road, sand piled up around them by the ceaseless desert wind.

Dathyn led the way down the road, towards the valley floor. Sprawled out below them lay a once vast city. Now no more than a hollow shell of a long-dead civilisation, the city was steadily being consumed by the sands.When they reached the Valley floor, they came before two great statues, far larger than the previous ones, acting as guardians to the gate to the abandoned city.

Over sixty feet tall, the stone figures loomed solemnly over Dathyn and Kitsune. Dathyn pointed out the empty eye sockets, and large holes in their chests, before moving past them and on into the city itself.

The walked along the main concourse, lanes twisting off to either side. Eventually, the road led into an immense square, tall ruins standing impassively all around.No obvious route led away from the square, other than the large road by which they had approached the place. In the distance, a large ziggurat squatted broodingly over the ruins, as if displeased at the intrusion into its territory.

"I would suggest that is our destination" Dathyn spoke in his near-whisper, but his words carried despite the constant wind that howled round the broken stone. He pointed to the temple-palace at the centre of the city. "Would you prefer to head there, or would you rather continue seeing the ruins?"

Silently i walked alongside Daryth, eyes flicking from one place to another, never settling on one thing for less than a few seconds.
The moon bathed a path in her silvery glow, the darkness was non threatening, more like a close friend ready and willing to conceal.
However, the remants of the statues, i walked round, running my gloved fingertips along its surface, the rasp of fabic against it loud in the comfortable silence.
I strained to listen, but silence greeted me. Nothing seemed to be alive, only the soft whispers of the wind, caressing the sand into tiny, unnoticeable movements.
The next large stone statues got the same treatment, again going round them, the rasping of fabic against weathered stone, my bare feet ghosting over the cold sand. Using magic to stop myself sinking in, just keeping myself on the top layer of sand.
I picked my way through more rubble, scattered here and there. Something was nagging at the back of my memory, the more i tried to focus on it, the more blurry it became.
The twined statues Daythn pointed out got a few seconds long of study, again, that feeling of a memory, something wasnt right here, why would this place trigger this? And why now?

I blinked when Daythn spoke, pulled out of my thoughts.
"I would suggest that is our destination" I glanced to where he pointed, his voice a whisper as the winds briefly choose to pick up "Would you prefer to head there, or would you rather continue seeing the ruins?"

I did not reply straight away, still consumed with that memory, the feeling of knowing this place, but not seeing....this...
"Kuso!"
I located the tallest remaining pillar, muscles bunched, pushed and i was airborne, gripping the edge of the stone, feeling pieces of it crumble beneath my grip i launched myself up, landing in a crouch, head swiveling to take in my surroundings.
I cast out senses to find anything alive, i prodded my internal companion, but he was not interested in chasing something he could not see.
"Forget it" He rumbled to me. "Its not worth our time"
I stopped to stare at the palace, my body thrumming with energy. Head cocked to one side, then vibrting the air, my voicecame out loud and clear as i asked " Do you sense that?"

"Do you sense that?" Kitsune's voice was carried by the indefatigable winds of the nocturnal desert to Dathyn, who stood motionless below her high perch.

"Of course." Dathyn didn't so much as glance up at his companion, his gaze still sweeping over the half buried ruins. "That is the seat of the Alchemists. They have, almost certainly, the largest collection of items of power on this world.

"I suspect that they, if anyone, will also have the answers to the questions you have." Dathyn looked up, at last. "They tend to have the answers everyone else has, after all."

The sand whispered night-time secrets to itself as the wind pushed it ever onwards. Infinitesimally slowly, the minute grains drew the ancient ruins of a long-forgotten civilisation beneath the dunes.

"So." Dathyn broke the contemplative silence once more. "Do you want to make for the ziggurat?"

"Of course." Came the reply, I removed my stare for from the palace, if i could of seen through walls, i would have. I directed my gaze down, pin pointing Dathyn "That is the seat of the Alchemists. They have, almost certainly, the largest collection of items of power on this world. I suspect that they, if anyone, will also have the answers to the questions you have." Dathyn seemed to meet my line of sight dead on "They tend to have the answers everyone else has, after all."

I gave him a measure more of respect as he continued to look up, it would of been more prudent to be able to see his eyes, after all, they are the window to your soul. And, a fair few, i have plucked out.

I directed a strong puff of air to push back my hood, sending the small concealing shadows scuttling back to my core. Giving Dathyn a hard look, the moonlight glinting off eyes that seemed consumed by darkness, the palace again became the center of my attention.
The largest collection of items of power on this world? This i will have to see for myself.

"So." Dathyn spoke "Do you want to make for the ziggurat?"

Given that i would be inside for an indefinate length of time forcus on the inhabitants here, i would need eyes and ears in the sky. Eyes closed, cupping my hands together, pulling a very unwilling host up and out, an colbat blue sphere, no bigger than a golf ball materialised. It gave of sparks, crackling faintly, its glow illluminating anything within a few centimeters. A second later it zoomed up, into the clouds and out of sight.
"Damned moody child...." I hissed to myself.

"The ziggurt? Going direct is the best route" One glance to confirm my destination, a blink and i stood facing the enterance to the palace.
A glance behind me confirmed the state of the place, stone steps, weathered down, cracked, chunks missing, sand blowing along its uneven and smooth surfaces.
Upon further examination, the massive double doors infront of me, appear to be stone, perhaps 3 meters thick? I did not know, i did not care, i wanted in.
I moved so that i was inline with the line indicating the center of the doors, deep marks shaped like half moons marked the handles, so i tried them, there was a harsh screech and grinding sound as i hooked my hand in and pulled.

It barely moved an inch.
As they said on one previous planet, 'F**k This' popped into my head.
My hand curled into a fist, pulled back, a resounding boom as it connected smack bang between the doors. Stone cracked, but not enough.
Once, twice more i connected with the stone, the result. A hole big enough for a normal sized male to comfortably walk through. If you didnt mind the dust an rubble left from the encounter.
Kicking the bigger pieces of stone across the floor i peered into the darkness, waiting to see if my unconventional, on the spot doorbell had roused anyone, anything of interest.

For many years I have been organising the food for the Nisannu banquet, the first time I organised it, we had served enough food for everyone to eat for a week solidly. A lot of the others who turn up celebrate their own version of the Nisannu giving it a different name and having similar celebration rituals, however for longer than I can remember they have all come to Orome for the final meal.

The Dwarfs who have to travel the furthest always seem to be one of the first to arrive, and the elves that live in Orome are always the last. I have deduced that the Dwarfs have a shorter celebration ritual and start travelling as soon as they have finished, and the Elves in Orome time there arrival for the least inconvenience.

The only ones who have never turned up have been the humans. They have a very different year plan than us. They seem to have the changes in weather rule them; we follow the sun and the patterns in its solar circles. These frequently coincide with the weather changes this planet experiences.

The first mistake I made when I first took over the organising of this was to put out too much food, I had somehow not learnt that the others who attend would bring food too, the dwarfs have always brought edible crystals and cooked cold meat of the animals only found in the regions they come from. The Pixies bring lots of really succulent berries and leaves of plants found only where they come from, and this is the same with all our guests.

The days when the humans would join us, they would bring a mixture of what ever they had in the homes, dried herbs, bread, things which they had cooked up with a mixture of things they had turned from there original form into something else.

I did love their quirky attitudes, and ways, though difficult to liase with due to their reduced lives you would end up having the same conversations with them Nisannu after Nisannu. It was rare that the same human would attend for more than one or two feasts. They were constantly announcing a new leader.

The Humans are good at story telling, as much as thy have short lives and they do not acquire much to tell themselves they have stories passed down from elders, and they have such zest for retelling these accounts. This is the other thing I miss about them. After the food, the humans would be able to tell these stories for as long as there were listeners. If one of them was running out of voice, or ability to tell the story then a different one would have a story to tell, there imagination was just wonderful, someone non of can even get close to.

With the meal starting at dawn, less than 10 hours away we do not have time to invite them this time, but I will ensure they are invited for the next one. I will request a someone to run round and formally invite the leader of each of the major areas to come.

I am sure that I could remember mermaids attending a Nisannu once.

Someone forgot to invite them to a Nisannu about 10 years ago and since then they have not attended, it is regretful that they do not attend however the rest of the guest have been please, the repetitive conversations grated on their good will. too much for the bread and the burgers and the milk etc to be missed too much.

We have always marvelled at how big the humans get. They seem to feel that being able to over indulge on food you are showing how well in life you are doing, how rich you are. Yet when they come here they have frequently been amazed at how natural and slim we are. They have also always favoured to sit next to the Dwarfs, I guess because the Dwarfs are the closest in size to them, they are no where near as flabby as them but then have a stoutier size, there muscles are far more defined and pronounced than any of ours, but then they live in the mountains, they are carrying boulders and trees a lot, they have to climb all day long.

I miss the humans, they are annoying in there small minded attitudes but they have some wonderful foods and they are very good for making us appreciate who and what we are.

They are also funny, they always seem to shiver, and they express they do not like how close everything lives together, they do not like birds living on the trees, they do not like the bugs living in the bark, they describe there houses as clean, they do not allow animals in the house, walls are built to keep everything not human out.

It is funny, they say they kill and animal that gets in the house, yet they do not know that they in fact probably live as close to all these animals as we do. The ants and cockroaches of this world do not care if you have built something to keep them out, they will house in it anyway.

I remember one human saying that the wall to there house was double layered, to keep the heat in and the cold chill of the winter out. This second wall on the inside of his house had a gap of 10millimeters, yet how many bugs do you know cannot make a home out of a 10millimeter gap? So few that my point still stood.

The thing this one gentle man hated the most was rats, he described that in the poorest areas of his city they had these rats running around everywhere, yet apparently they were not to be found in his area of the city. Further probing into this matter revealed that he hired people to kill any that were found.

Any creature that knows of an area that is really dangerous to go into will avoid going there. They will not go into the area, which promises certain death unless they have to. Or unless they know of ways to get around the danger without being caught, for example running through these walls, going under ground, only travelling at night.

I was amazed at how upset this man got with these suggestions, he shouted, spittle developed at the corners of his mouth, his voice was so loud, so rapid he was trying to tell me so many of his points at once he was unable to pronounce a word completely before he was on the next one. We all stopped what we were doing and we were watching him, even the other humans were shocked at his reaction. He finally slammed his fist on the table stood up and marched away. One of the guide elves that led them in from the northwest had to go after him before he got lost.

My mouth was begginng to plead for water, any liquid would suffice. I crept over to the front door and started slowly unbolting the locks. One rusty bolt squeaked loudly, stirring Moira slighty but not enough to wake her. I lifted the door slightly on its hinges to relieve the friction on the bolt, enough to turn the high pitched squeak into a muffled grinding. The last of the four bolts slid quietly from its place. I took one last glance to Moira, making sure she was still asleep. She was. She had wrapped her blanket around herself and become a patchwork cocoon. I slowly turned the door handle, but as I pulled to open it, it wouldn’t budge. I remembered the key that Moira had used to open the door when we were coming in. Luckily it was hanging on a rusty nail in the wall next to the door and not hidden about the room, or under her pillow.

I unlocked the door and replaced the key back on its hook. Picking up my shirt and the empty glass jug, I opened the door and silently slipped out into the pre-dawn darkness. Outside was bitterly cold compared to the heat inside. Plumes of steam wisped out of my mouth with every breath, each one rising then dissipating. I followed the wide path between the houses to the pump beneath the lantern, keeping an eye out in the darkness for the creature that we had seen the night before. When I reached the water pump, my first instinct was to pump the water straight into my awaiting mouth, but sense stepped in as I realised that all I would get is wet.

I held the jug under the faucet as I pumped . Five pumps was all that it took to fill it up to the illusionary filled line at the neck with clear water. I threw my shirt down on the edge of the catchment tub under the pump and lifted the jug to my mouth. ‘Never has water tasted this good’, I thought as the first few drops ran down my awaiting throat. I lowered the jug from my lips and swallowed the remnants in my mouth before gasping for air. I looked down at the nearly empty jug and softly laughed to myself as I made my way to refill the jug for Moira.

I refilled the jug and placed my shirt in the water to soak. Leaving my dirty shirt in the tub, I walked back to Moira’s hut and slowly crept in, to see her still asleep, waiting to emerge a butterfly from her cocoon. I placed the jug on the worktop next to the glasses and made my way back to the tub wash my shirt, or to at least freshen it a bit. I stood at the pump for what must’ve been ten minutes, trying to clean the bloodied sleeve, but to almost no avail. I wrung it out and lifted it into the light to examine it. The blood had just lightened slightly, but not enough to go unnoticed. ‘Looks like I’ll be giving Mayra another visit soon,’ I sighed, dismayed. Mayra lives in a small town west of Orome as the town’s tailor. I had been there about a dozen or times before, as her skills are above any I have seen before. Ever since winding up there many years ago, I have never gone to another for clothes. The thought of Mayra’s smile and the smile’s of her family brought a thoughtful smile on my own face.

The sudden sound of a door closing startled me and I spun round to where I thought the noise came from; Moira’s house. I slung the damp shirt over my shoulder, its wet sleeve on my back sending slight shivers up my spine. I crept to Moira’s window and peered in the little circle of clean. Her little cocoon was still wrapped on the bed. The sound of brushing grass and rolling pebbles caught my attention. The noise was coming from behind the small wall which coarsed along the riverside. I unsheathed my kiri and slowly made my way to the gate in the wall.

As I reached the gate, small stone steps cascaded down to the river bank from underneath the gate. I slid between the slightly ajar gate and the gatepost, making my way down the steps slowly to the water’s edge. I reached the little wooden jetty at the bottom of the steps, but nothing or no-one could be seen. I desperately looked up and down the river, trying to find an explanation, but found none. I looked to the west as the sun started anouncing it’s arrival, lighting the sky above the horizon, slowly turning from blue to red then finally the edge of the sun broke out, reminding me of my time in stone.

‘So this is where you had got to’, a sleepy voice asked behind me. I spun round, startled, almost raising my blade to the owner’s throat but managing to keep it down. It was Moira. She was stood behind me in a small white silk dressing gown, which reveiled a little of her thighs. ‘I was thirsty this morning and your jug was empty….’ I started. ‘So what made you come down here then?’ she asked humerously with a cheeky smile upon her face. ‘Well I was cleaning my shirt at the pump when I heard your door close and I went to investigate and….’ She stopped me with a finger across my lips. ‘Aww, you were worried about me? How sweet.’

My wet shirt fell from my shoulder to the floor with a wet slapping thud against the jetty. I bent down to pick my shirt as she started to walk to the end of the jetty. At the end I heard a soft flump as her dresing gown slipped off her body to the floor, followed by a creak of the wood beneath her. I looked up to see her naked thighs and bottom just before they were under the surface of the water. She had fully submerged. I jumped up and walked over to the edge where she had jumped, or at least hope she had jumped. I looked around, searching for where she may resurface. A full minute passed; still no Moira. I took a few steps back and prepared to jump in after her.

Tonight whilst most of my people sleep and prepare themselves for the festivities of tomorrow, I have a small group of ten people helping me to prepare our portions of the food, and I have a few more setting the beds for the guests, we will spend all day tomorrow sat around the table eating and drinking, the evening will be spent talking before finally sleep.

It does make for a long day for so many of our guest who will spent tonight travelling the last distance of there journey. A lot of them are accustomed to travelling on horses or similar animals, that the last leg of their journey through the forest will be their hardest bit. Not being used to walking will only be the half of it, not being used to finding their way through the forest will be the other.

As much as the Dwarfs, the elves, the pixies, the vampires etc should all have someone with them who does know the way, it is easy to get confused. The trees develop, the animals change there runs, the river alters its course slightly, all of it can put your baring off.

The moon has not come out tonight, this makes it even harder for our guest and it means that we do not have a time guide, as much as this is not a huge issue, when you are trying to get everything ready and you are concerned about getting it done before everyone arrives, your natural instinct to check for a time guide, something which will tell you how well your doing, or not doing as the case may be.

Every year I worry about this, yet every year so far we have been done on time. The last plate was being laid as the first were arriving one year, but we were still on time. A couple of years we have actually been sat waiting for everyone to arrive.

A dark shadow has appeared from the east of my location, the clearing which Dathyn had summoned his pets from, this figure is walking straight and true, it can not be one of the guests it must be Shia who has been in charge of getting the beds set up. Shia has been in charge of the beds for the last 3 years. This is not customary but since her husband passed she has requested to help on every Nisannu, usually we have 10 people for the food and a further 3 for the beds. We try to rotate who is in charge of what, allowing the majority of the people to enjoy the event whilst not causing the same people to work every event.

As Shia gets closer she starts to speak, her voice is respectfully quiet, we still have people in bed “Elwe” she starts, not continuing until she is stood beside me “the beds are set, we are all going to get a few hours rest in before it all starts off.”
“Wonderful, Thank you Shia, “ I match her low tone. She takes a beep breath before she shrink in size with her exhale “Shia, how are you?” her stature looks tired, she looks like she has struggled through tonight.
“I am fine thanks Elwe” yet her tone is not as convincing as her words should be I stay quiet hoping she will elaborate, after a few minutes she has not so I turn towards her and raise an eye brow at her
“Okay” her tone is jovially defensive “I am tired, these last few weeks I have started to notice it” again she pauses “Elwe you will notice it when you get to my age.” I am sure I will but you have not finished talking, lowering my eye brow she continues “things I have never struggles with just seem so much harder, I can not do half the things I could as a young one.”
“Yes Shia, but how many thing can you do now that you could not as a young one” I have to get her to realise this or she will not pass on happy
“Very wise Elwe, your mother would be proud.” She stops talking letting me have a moment to remember my mother and giving her a chance to think of all the things she can or can not do compared to her younger self “my bed no longer feels warm at night, I am not sleeping as well as I used to, and this is having a little of a toll on me, but mainly I am noticing my muscles are just not as good as they used to be.” Ok she is focusing on all the bad things, come on Shia you know acceptance is the next thing, which is where your memory appreciates what you have “though I have never had the beds ready this quickly before” thank you she has started on the correct path “my sewing skills have just improved ten fold, Elwe I hope you don’t mind but I am going to have to get some sleep, I really want to enjoy tomorrow.”
“That is fine Shia, have a good sleep, ill see you tomorrow” the first time I had this conversation was with a male called Isiza and sadly I was not prepared for it. He had been singing a new section of the table we about to sit on, the day he finished it, he came to me and as we were walking around the table the tree’s leaves acting as an umbrella he started talking about how tired he had been, the last section of the tree had just taken it out of him. I did not know what to do. I barely said anything, and he did the full circle on his own, he told me everything about his life, the good and the bad. I learnt from this that I have to be quick and I have try and steer them appreciation of their lives. Over the years I have got better at it. The first conversation took several hours, this one was done in minutes.

When I first took over from my mother everything took so much longer, I wondered how on earth my mother found the time in the day to do everything. Now I know. Sadly my daughter is not her so I can pass on these nuggets of knowledge as they come up, she is not here to get the practice either. I do hope she gets home before she has to dive in the deep end the same way I did.

Standing here all night is difficult, I am so used to having to help and to do a lot of the manual tasks my self that standing here over seeing the events and awaiting our guests to greet is a little weird. I feel like this every year.

The rain from today has long since gone, the moon has not come out and there is a fine layer of clouds that blocks out the stars, those in there beds are probably having a good nights sleep, the animals that are out hunting will be finding it a little difficult some may even go hungry tonight, I have heard all of them out of there burrows, the snakes slithering about, trying to find a burrow to go down for a meal, the fox’s out on the hunt for a ground dwelling bird or small animal, the owls are looking for mice, these sounds are very random, they do not happen in a predictable way, the sounds of footsteps the cracking of twigs, the squeak of a mouse that was nearly stood on and the huffs people make when something has happened they do not approve of is predictable, it is a sound which beats its way through the rest of the noises.

Some of our guest have arrived. Well are virtually here, it will not take them long to travel from in hearing distance to full visual.

Dathyn watched the crackling blue orb of energy shoot up into the scudding clouds, a telepathic grumbling could be heard through the mind connection both beings shared with Kitsune. It was rapidly lost to sight and only by sensing the energy directly could Dathyn tell where it was.

"The ziggurat? Going direct is the best route." Kitsune barely finished speaking before a muffled clap, like distant thunder, heralded her teleportation from the top of the pillar she had been perching on. In almost the same instant, she reappeared by the giant twin slabs of stone that served as doors to the vast edifice in the centre of the Abandoned City. It is doubtful that any other than Dathyn would even have noted the slight lag between departure and arrival; teleportation carrying the diminutive female faster than even Dathyn could move through normal means.

Dathyn focused his attention to the orb hidden in the clouds. It kept up a low mental rumbling of complaint as it zoomed upwards. Then, almost like a desert flower, the orb opened up and unfolded into the form of a mighty dragon. It hung in the air for a moment, on outstretched wing, before snapping its giant wings together, propelling itself across the sky at great speed. Were it not for the clouds, the sight would have impressed even Dathyn.
As the arcane beast stretched its wings, the timbre of its growling became less irritated and sounded almost content.

A sharp cracking sound drew Dathyn's attention back to Kitsune. Whilst he had been watching the great wyrm frolic in the sky, Kitsune had been trying to gain entrance to the ziggurat. Presumably she lost patience, as Dathyn watched her pound the doors to rubble with her bare hands.

Stepping through Shadow, Dathyn drew up behind Kitsune just as she stepped through the ruined doors and, after a momentary pause, moved into the darkness of the ziggurat.

Dathyn followed Kitsune as she led the way deep into the immense structure. From the outside, it looked as though some unimaginably huge hand had carved a mountain into steps. Inside, the variety of styles was almost overwhelming. From bare cells crudely carved out of the rock to magnificent galleries tiled and mosaicked with precious metals and gems, almost every style of architecture could be found within the hulk of the temple-palace. Whilst there was some sand, and debris from the now broken doors near the entrance, the interior was spotless, with not a trace of dust or a single cobweb to be seen anywhere.

Through grand halls and simple corridors; along passages and down stairs, the labyrinthine warrens of the ziggurat led the pair ever downwards, into the very bedrock beneath the structure. Ever in darkness, the pair noticed the styles of architecture slowly change: getting more and more ancient with every level they reached. After some hours of walking without meeting anyone, or even seeing any sign of the palatial citadel having ever been inhabited, they reached styles of construction that were older even than Dathyn.

When they had first gained access to the ziggurat, the sense of energy was akin to a beacon atop a hill- obviously noticeable, but in a specific direction and some distance away. However, in the depths of the ancient temple, that same energy seemed to come from everywhere at once. Millennia of arcane secrets being uncovered in one place had imbued the very fabric of the vast building with potent, magical energies, ranging from the minor magicks of sympathy to the great energies of the Elements, and other forces.

The latent energies had a curious effect over their environment, distorting time and space. Sometimes, a long corridor would take only moments to traverse, whilst, at other times a seemingly small chamber would take an hour or more to cross.

In these lower levels, the darkness became less constant. Occasionally the energies all around would manifest as a lambent glow, playing on the walls of the rooms the pair passed through. Lesser beings would have been driven mad by the gauntlet these two walked through in apparent ease.

After a time, be it hours or even days, Kitsune led Dathyn along a downwards sloping corridor that suddenly opened out into an immense, cavernous chamber. The floor was perfectly smooth, as though it was made of a single piece of marble. The walls were carved with curious patterns, anthropomorphic designs and tantalising sigils to a height of perhaps forty feet. Beyond this, the room appeared to take on a more organic feel, as if it had been hollowed out aeons ago by the relentless trickle of long-gone water. The walls curved naturally into the room, speckled with massive stalactites, well over a hundred feet above.

In the centre of the room there sat a large stone throne, raised upon a dais. From the throne rose a wide pillar reaching all the way to the otherwise unsupported roof.

Arrayed in a circle around the dais were eight more pillars, although these reached only a little more than half way to the ceiling before ending brokenly, the rubble at their bases testament to their former glory. In front of each of the radial pillars was a low throne and, upon these, there sat eight figures. One to a pillar, each figure wore vestments of differing colours. Their skin was parchment-dry and exceedingly taut over their skulls. The effect heightened by the way their kept their scalps clear-shorn.

As one, these figures turned their heads to state unblinkingly at the two newcomers.

I stood motionless just steps from the dark abyss of the slow flowing river, the depths not yet lit by the slowly rising sun. I searched the surface over and over, trying to see a glimpse of her, a sign of where she might be. The passing seconds felt like hours. What is happening to me? What is this feeling taking over me? Would this be worry? I haven’t felt this feeling in years. Something about her, it must be destiny. I took in several deep breaths and prepared myself for diving into the water. But instinctive fear took over. My people, as a species has never truly been swimmers. Only the odd one or two per clan had ever really learned or been able to swim, whether by accident of falling in or learning from the human children in the neighbouring villages. I once had a close call as a young child.

Shadar and I were playing by the waterfall in Eryll in the shallows, looking for shelltrops (crustaceans like what the humans call lobsters but with a tear drop shaped shell) for the pot. I was lifting the rocks and Shadar was picking them up with his nimble fingers. I lifted one rather large rock and two ran out. He tried to catch both of them but lost his footing on the loose shingle and fell in. The current of the water dragged him struggling to the deep. He was panicking, trying to get to the shore but the current kept on dragging. I jumped in after him, without thinking. Within seconds the current had caught me too, dragging me towards my drowning friend. The last I saw of him was his outstretched hand reaching for the surface as he sank below for the last time. I was about to share the same fate as my friend as my held breath started to run out, when a painful thump hit me against my arm. I grabbed onto it as a last resort. Seconds later I was on the shore after being pulled by three students and one of Elder Kivo’s long balance beams from the training paddock. My mother had given me a right earful that evening, though I know that it was only out of love and worry. The next day I paid my respects at Shadar’s funeral and apologised profusely to his mother, but she only pushed me away in her blinding mist of devastated sorrow. At the end Elder Alhedra took me aside and she explained to me that our bodies are less buoyant than most creatures and that is why the water is dangerous to us. She also told me of the water legends and myths which our people believed in. This explained why only the exiled and the desperate worked at sea on the boats.

I took in one more deep breath, closing my eyes to help focus. I exhaled slowly and reopened my eyes with a clear mind. My natural fear had become an irrational one. I ran towards the end of the jetty, causing a dull ache in my calf, jumped on and pushed off of the raised bedding pole holding the jetty to the river bed to give myself a second of extra perspective and extra momentum to dive deeper. Just before I hit the water, I remembered my training with the mermaids in the guild pools, the months of hard practice in my free time and multiple near-drowning’s.

As my hands carved their refreshing entrance into the cold water, I took a breath deep enough to last. Hopefully. I swam down into the murky abyss. The darkness down here wasn’t a problem for me, only the silt and weeds hindered my vision. I swam round the mid-depths for as long as my breath could take me, maybe a little more. I could see whole families of shelltrops scuttling across the river bed, kicking up a trail of slit. Other life seemed to thrive down here, from the schools of fish to the small furry mammals, there was no doubt that the other wildlife were thriving too. I offered one last glance around before heading back to the surface for air, kicking frantically and pulling what can only be compared to boulders on each arm, before drowning myself as there are no mermaids to save me this time.

I broke the surface and gasped for sweet fresh air after expelling the last of the heavy stale air from my lungs. I looked around to see if she had swept up on the river bank. I was now about fifty yards downstream from the jetty as the current had taken me. I kept my head above the surface by treading water, regaining my breath before making another dive. As I took my final breath, a familiar female voice called out across the brightening waters. ‘Umbrae? Where you going? Not to the beach I hope.’ Her voice light and joking. I spun round to the jetty to see her wrapped back up in her dressing gown, stood with her arms crossed against her chest.

I took another few seconds to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating before swimming back towards the jetty. It was much harder against the current. By the time I made it back to the jetty, the sun had almost half risen above the horizon, lighting my escape from the darkness of the river. I pulled myself up onto the boardwalk and flopped on my back with my eyes closed to fully catch my breath. I felt the shadow of Moira leaning over me. I could sense her bemused humoured expression.

As Mayra opened the door a wave of heat washed over us. We had not had enough time to get cold, but it highlighted the temperature difference between out here and inside. It may even become insufferably warm in there, especially after food.

Inside is a comfortable home environment with 4 small tables against the far wall is a hatch with a full view of a section of the kitchen. I can see a hob and oven behind the hatch the oven has a glass front and I can see a very large dish filled with what looks like a shepherd’s pie. It has been longer than I care to remember I have eaten a hot meal like this.

I doubt that the food in there is just for us, the cook will probably be feeding their family as well as us. At least I hope that is the case, in my world we would waste so much food, in fact we wasted so much of everything in fact. From what I have seen in this world so far they have not been as wasteful not even by half. It is reassuring to see.

Mayra heads straight for a seat beside the fire, she must have this routine set now. The same seat.

Before I have closed the door and followed Mayra to her seat a lady put her head in through the hatch she look similar in age to Mayra, just a little bit older and a lot larger, she was really happy, it is something I noticed when I lived at home the larger person is frequently happy, the seem to care a lot less than most people, well certainly about their looks.
“Good Evening Mayra” she sound completely different to Mayra, front the accents I remember from my home, Mayra would be described as being a Toff, very well spoken. In comparison the lady stood behind the hatch spoke similar to how the Irish did. She sounds very happy.

Now I am thinking about how this, how do I sound to them, Mayra has not asked me anything about myself, I cannot tell if this is a good thing or not.

Mayra and the women behind the hatch have been chatting, for the last few seconds I have not even heard them, bringing myself out of my thoughts, they are talking about me.
“…did he come from?”
“I don’t know, he walked in the shop and asked for a job.” the lady behind the hatch lets out a small giggle befor continueing
"could I borrow him, some nights it gets so busy around here.”
“well how many children are you looking after now?”
“7”
“how do you do it?”
“I don’t know, I have just always done it like this, you know that.”
“at least your eldest is old enough to look after the others in the evening.” To this she smiled, then tried to continue the smile.
“I miss it though, I miss having them around my feet… I know its silly… I know I should be pleased I am able to concentrate on my food, and be pleased I am not worried about tripping over them, dropping or spilling something on them. “ I feel so scared to say something, we are all here looking at each other.

Our silence is broken by the door being opened, the lady behind the hatch, looks up and says to the whole room, food is nearly done” then to those who had entered “ take a seat I’ll bring it out to you” before she turned back into the kitchen.

The new people who had entered the room were a new couple, they said hello and sat in seats furthest away from us so as they could be alone.

As soon as the guests have started arriving, they arrive in a long stream, I spend what seems like forever standing here saying “welcome, so good to see you, we will have time to catch up soon” as much as I mean it, I find repetition makes it hard to believe it at the moment of saying it.

By the time the last one has arrived the sun is fairly high in the sky, it must be at least 8 hours past mid night, whilst I have been busy greeting everyone the last of the food has been put on the tables, My people are fantastic, I love it that I do not need to be watching them every second to get things done, when I first took on this position I was on their case about everything, I was scared that if I let them get on with it I would be blamed, there would be a problem and I would not be able to deal with it.

Experience has caused me to calm down. I can now relax and trust everyone, as I calmed down my people were still on edge, waiting for me to be paranoid, and worried. Yet as we all got used to each other things became easier.

The last person to arrive is Ir Ran, he has been my longest standing friend, when we were children we would meet up at these occasions and we would play fight, we would sit bored at the table eating and wanting to be running through the trees and clashing sticks like they were the biggest sharpest swords in the kingdom.

We never knew that one day we would have our chase to fight as we had dreamed and pretended. It was no where near as good as slaying your friend time and time again, knowing he will miraculously manage to live by some means or another.

Together we walk towards the table and join the rest eating, and chatting. I have never had a problem talking to Ir Ran but I do have to spend some time talking to the rest of my guests.so after about a hour where we have managed to catch up on the biggest events since our last letters, I move down the table to speak with another person, here the food is different , and still of perfect quality, I was sat eating a mix of seeds which had a chilli spice bound to the seeds by water. The chilli’s were picked last year, they were crushed, ground and once dried water is added to turn it into a thick paste, when the seeds are ready (some minutes before it was served up for eating) the seeds would have been dipped in the paste and put in the dish we have managed to make from the bark which fell off the trees. Where I am sat now next to a dwarf has a sliced deer meet in a basil sauce. I am looking forward to getting to the spit at the very other end of the table which has a large hog on it.

Half way through the day when I am not talking with the pixie prince who was telling me all about how the tiger had managed to break through there wards and stomped on their palace.