Sylvie linked arms with Avery as they left the old elven ruins their parents had transformed into a home on the hill. Avery began to sing an old tale she had learned from their mother. Her voice was so beautiful it hurt to listen.

Suddenly Avery stopped dead in her tracks, and blurted out, “He’s hiding something!”

“Huh? Who?”

“You know I can read minds, only blood relatives are immune, but he is most definitely hiding something from us, and I will find out what.”

With that she began to mutter in Germanish, the preferred language of Azuren, and many other of the wealthier city-states.

“Sis, he just misses mom. He always gets weird around this day. And, I was meaning to tell you earlier, be careful at the rally, the humans that show up at those things can be pretty hateful.”

Avery began to walk again, faster this time, with her fists balled up. Sylvie could tell a lecture was coming…

“They call us ‘Halflers, Leaf Ears, Wannabee Humans’ and who knows what other terrible names! Sylvie, we are the Elf-hu. It’s an honour to have both bloods running through our veins. Until they start treating the elves, and us Elf-hu, like equals, I will be attending every single rally. Think about our mother, think about our family, and think about the hundreds of elves and ‘Halflers’ that have to deal with this mistreatment everyday.”

Avery took a big gasp of air about to continue, Sylvie sighed and waved her hand to cut her off; she knew her wise little sister was right, but still worried about her.

“Avery, I just want you to be careful, ok?”

This time Avery didn’t need any gift to be able to read her sister, the worry was crystal clear, “I promise,” she clasped her on the shoulder, like someone who was much older would do, and set off for the 40-minute walk into town.

Sylvie watched the red cloak with the matching red hair disappear near their father’s shop before she turned her attention to the stables. Sniffing the air, she noticed instantly something was not right and she quickly picked up her pace. As she got closer the neighing of the horses turned into jumbled speech.

Hopefully she is here soon… What time do you think it happened…? I think I can hear a small crowd gathering…. Oh, Mothers of God, hopefully the dreaded Legion doesn’t show up here.

“Good morning you all, what is the commotion about?”

Ace lifted his majestic head and snorted loud. The morning was still crisp and Sylvie could see the air flaring quickly out of his nose.

“About time you got here,” said Ace.

Sylvie had a gift that very few in the world had, even many of the Elves were jealous; she could communicate with animals. If she had still been part of her mother’s clan in Linlia, she would have been forced to be a ‘Tribes Tradeswomen’. Animals had so many treasures and secrets that most humans couldn’t fathom the amount of value communicating with them had. Elves, on the other hand, could and did fathom the worth, thus making the very few elves born with the gift extremely valuable to the clan.

Few ever spoke to Sylvie about the clan in Linlia. She could count on one hand what she knew.

Linlia was quite a few states north of Azuren and much colder.

The famous glacial ice caves came from Linlia, and with the caves much magic and uncontrollable power.

The elves of the Linlia clan were primarily light skinned and light haired.

And her mother, Celeste, had been quite a rebellious member of the clan.

The last fact had been told to the girls from their father. He loved to tease Celeste, and to the girls’ delight tell them stories of their mother’s adolescence. Once their mother passed away, he stopped telling the stories. Sometimes Sylvie wasn’t sure what was greater, her own pain, or watching her father still mourn.

“I don’t see anything,” Sylvie began to reply before Cato, the horse’s natural leader, interrupted, “We didn’t need to see IT, we heard IT.” Sylvie began to feel uneasy.

Diella began to clarify, “Something happened last night my dear, something not right. We were grateful we were in the stables, but now I am regretting that we voted against Ace to investigate what it was.” She shook her glorious brown mane in the sun while digging her hoof in the dirt.

Justah, the only white horse of the group, jumped in, “We heard awful screaming, growling, and then nothing… dead silence. The screaming sounded like something I have not heard for a long time….”

“But a sound we all recognize and don’t want to admit, I believe it was an orc,” said Cato.

Meta, the youngest of the horses, began impatiently stomping her feet, “Please Sylvie, I need some fresh air.”

“Meta, you don’t need my permission to go out, you know the spell on the stable for protection as well as I do! And Cato what do you mean an orc?” Sylvie’s eyes narrowed as she asked.

If there was one creature, she despised above all others it was an orc. The last time she had seen one of those ferocious beasts was the last night she saw her mother. They haunted her thoughts, and her nose unconsciously flared up remembering the stench of them. She had spent the last 10 years training everyday knowing she would get her vengeance. She was better with a bow than anyone east of the Lake, and for the last two years she had won the annual dagger-throwing contest.

Cato and the others let themselves out and Ace finally spoke up, “Sylvie, do not be concerned that you are alone, our hate for them is equal to yours. Celeste was like a mother to us too.” All the horses nodded in agreement. “When Mrs. Penna is later awake, we can inquire if she or any of the other bats saw anything,” Ace added.

The Musclewoods had a family of about 200 bats rooting in the stables; Mrs. Penna was their leader. Not only did she make sure the residence was as bug free as possible but she also organized the valuable bat droppings for Blanca.

“I need to know now. I will talk to her later. Who is up for a ride?”

Cato bowed his head down gently; grabbing his beautiful black mane for support, Sylvie swiftly swung her long legs up.

A crow that was an exceptionally shiny black swooped near. She mentally reached out to him, “Please, can you see anything of the commotion on the path up ahead?”

He had a surprisingly deep voice, “Of course girl. I can see the black blood from here. A small group of orcs were either on the way to your hills or heading into town. The direction is unclear. What is clear is something stopped them and made sure they wouldn’t get a step further.”

He circled her very slowly and thought to himself, yes brave girl, I am afraid there are many dark times are ahead.

Cato read the crow’s thoughts, but was not surprised as he had had the exact same thoughts. Before Sylvie could further comment, he had already begun to gallop towards the sound of the small crowd. He could feel how tense she was in her muscles, but he didn’t sense fear, he sensed determination.

Cato knew that no matter what the future would bring, he would pledge his loyalty to her.

It was only a short ride before Sylvie and Cato reached the slowly growing commotion. Sylvie could smell the familiar foul stench before she could see them, but she knew instantly her animal friends had been correct; it was definitely orc. She didn’t need to push aside the small crowd; sitting on top of the large Cato, she could easily see the three dead orcs. Their black blood had stained the white stone path leading into town, and although she could see finely made arrows sticking out of them, that was not what had finished the orcs off. It looked like a monster had mauled them.

Sylvie felt her nose tickle, the way it did when Avery would try to read her mind, she instantly snapped her head around and considered the crowd. She saw a red gown a ways up the road, and realized that Avery had to have passed the grizzly scene, we will have a lot to discuss tonight, Sylvie thought with a grunt. There were a few people from Sweet Meadows, the small farming community that had made its home in front of the city walls, standing with gaped open mouths, some Elves whispering in Germanish, Sylvie only caught the phrase ‘we must report this immediately to the clan elders’, and there in the corner a little old hunched back lady. She was wearing a green dress with sewed in leaves and in her hair were a hundred more leaves. If you just glanced over the crowd, you would have missed her. Sylvie made eye contact, and the lady hermit began to shout,

“I saw it! I saw it! No monster. A bear.” She paused and added, “a bear with blue eyes.”

And with that she ran back into the woods. The crowd began to gasp and gossip with the new information, but Sylvie just sat there on Cato not moving. She had seen a bear with blue eyes, once, 10 years ago on this date. Her mind flew back. It had tried to save her mother, but the orcs had outnumbered the bear, she shuddered remembering, she had watched the mighty beast collapse on their living room floor. As the orcs began to drag it out of the room, it had looked up pleadingly at Sylvie with scared blue eyes, while she stood there helplessly.

Her mother had put up a barrier right before the orcs broke in. The girls had screamed and slammed their hands against it. Nothing had worked. The orcs couldn’t see them or hear them. One, the one that sometimes Sylvie still saw in her nightmares, had sniffed the air very slowly while standing right next to the barrier.

The barrier had lasted longer than the girls tears and it wasn’t until late the next day that they could walk freely around the house.

She felt like she was going to faint, Cato moved nervously under her, “steady yourself,” he whispered. Certainly, the crowd just heard a horse neighing, but she quickly up righted herself.

In the distance, she heard a trumpet go off, the Elves and the few Elf-hu looked at her and then took of swiftly for the woods. The trumpets went off again, and this time the humans heard it as well, and cheered,

“The Legionnaires are coming!”

Sylvie rolled her eyes and slid off Cato. This would be her one opportunity to investigate the orcs before the legion carried them off. All orcs are ugly, with black eyes and black stained teeth, but the largest of the three dead ones was particularly hideous. His long curled yellow fingers were still tightly grasping his sword. As she looked closer, she began to wonder about the arrows, I have never seen such finely made ones…. They were very narrow and petite, but must be incredibly sharp to break through the orc’s tough armour. She reached down to rip one arrow out to further investigate at home, when a white sleeve shoved her out of the way.

“What do you think you are doing Halfler, this is no place for your likes,” one of the Legionnaires boomed at her.

An attractive, and somewhat younger one, piped in, “Pardon Colonel Rojel, please be careful with her, she is the daughter of Fergus, I can escort her back…” but he was interrupted before he could continue.

“DO YOU THINK I CARE WHOSE DAUGHTER SHE IS? Unless the King says different, she will be treated like every other leaf ear.”

“Don’t talk about me as if I am not standing right in front of you! Unless you are man enough to directly call me those names, I suggest you stop.” She paused, “If you care to address me, I am Sylvie Musclewood and those orcs were near to my home, so I have every right to figure out what they were doing and what stopped them.”

Colonel Rojel’s face began to turn red, for if there was anything, he didn’t like it was an Elf. And even worse it was a female elf threatening him. He was new to Azuren, and didn’t like how cheeky these Halflers behaved on this side of the Lake. He had already spit at the little red haired one that they had crossed paths with. She had responded with a laugh and flipping her hair at him. His blood started boiling at the thought of it. He instinctively put his hand on his sword and heard the crowd of people gasp. The half elf half human, who he hated to admit was beautiful even for an elf, was glaring at him with an arrow pulled taught.

“Get your hand off of that sword,” she whispered. Her huge black horse standing intimidatingly behind her.

“You think you have a chance you little twat? We are six men. And I would hate to imagine what would happen if we were to take you back to the dungeon with us.”

“Colonel Rojel, is that your name?” Sylvie spat out. “I promise I will not forget it.” Before he could respond she quickly pulled her arrow back and released. It happened so quick, that no one even saw it flying through the air, only the sound of wood splintering when the arrow hit its target tree with the Colonel’s hat sticking to it.

She smiled, jumped up on Cato, and added, “you ever threaten to take me into a dungeon again, I promise you won’t be so lucky in only losing your hat,” and with that whipped around and took off in a full gallop.

The handsome Legionnaire couldn’t help but smile, it either took a lot of guts or stupidity to do what that woman just did. Perhaps a combination of the two, he thought to himself. Rojel was now a deep shade of purple and shaking in anger. For a second, it was so quiet that the townspeople had forgotten about the orcs lying in front of them.

“If anyone dares to breath a word of this, I will have them brought immediately to the prison!” he roared. “Men, pick up this orc scum, we have wasted enough time here already. That little elf bitch will get what’s coming for her. And you all,” he glared at the remaining crowd, “go back to your miserable little shacks that you came from.”

The Sweet Meadows townspeople were shocked; this new Colonel wasn’t what they had expected. They were used to hearing the Legionnaire talk down to elves but to be addressed that way themselves was an entirely different matter. They silently shock their heads realizing the show was over, and walked back towards the village.