But we're finally ramping up the tension in this series and if the next one is a current chapter; it'll be a fairly interesting one I think, as I'll finally be able to showcase a good portion of everyone's abilities (well, maybe not everything Melia and Gilean has to offer anyway.)

Oh! One other thing that I wanted to (proudly) mention. If you've read this far for either of my series, congrats! For both 'Remember Me Fondly' and 'Road to S', I've hit a personal milestone of typing out over 100 pages of each! Thus I applaud you brave souls who managed to trudge through my literary insanity and...as always...I hope you guys continue to read my works (and hopefully enjoy them too!)

Chapter 8 – Captured

Age of Dorweir – Year 2609

“...ake up” said a familiar voice. Silpherion felt his body being roughly jostled as the voice came again, “-ilph! Say something!”

Silpherion could only groan in response, his body was incredibly sore, but nothing felt broken. “He's okay!” shouted the voice. He could hear sounds of relief all around him. It sounded like there were six or seven people around him. His eyes fluttered open, but he was unable to make out any concrete details.

What filled his blurry vision was a figure bent over him, examining him for wounds. Behind the figure was a large, faintly glowing monolith that Silpherion recognized as the mysterious structure that occupied the Glade.

“Tamara and Althian are recovering well too. Luckily no major blood vessels were hit.” said another voice a few paces away. Recognizing his parent's names and that they were wounded prompted Silpherion to try and get up. His efforts were quelled by a gentle, but firm hand, to his sternum which pushed him back down to the ground.

“Easy there, partner, you took a pretty nasty blow to the head.”

Silpherion's vision swam back into focus, “Veo?”

“The one and only!” declared Veo proudly, though his smirk was almost instantly replaced by a look of concern, “How do you feel?”

Silpherion groaned, “I've been better. What happened?”

“I should be asking you that. Ten minutes ago, Glendara found the three of you passed out on the ground and the monolith shining like a damn lighthouse.”

His heart skipped a beat when he heard that, his memories suddenly coming back to him, “Three of us? Not four? Where's Gilean?” Silpherion struggled to get up, beating back Veo's hand as he once again tried to get Silpherion to lie down.

No answer came from Veo. “Where's my little brother? Has anyone seen Gilean?!” With a little bit of effort, Silpherion got to his feet and repeated the question as he searched among the figures in the Glade for traces of his brother.

There were thirteen people in the Glade, excluding himself: Veo and Lauren were the two closest to him. Meera was standing together with Aume and Ela in a tight cordon at the edge of the Glade to keep away any curious onlookers. With a jolt of surprise, Silpherion saw Glendara talking to Elder Vyon who appeared to have just arrived on scene and was listening to a detailed report from Glendara.

Standing some distance away from Elder Vyon was Elder Fomë and Retsa who were examining and discussing the glowing monolith together with a keen interest. Hovering over the now awake figures of his parents (he was relieved to see that they appeared to be unharmed) were two of the best healers in the village; Samaya and Talia.

All together, the elves that were gathered were some of the most well-known and powerful figures in Nevara'el. But this was a secondary concern as he anxiously scanned for traces of his little brother.

Come on...think! I was trying to talk Gilean down and then mother and father came bursting out of the trees to do the same. Gilean was crying and holding up a spare novochore blade that he had gotten from the house. He was...trying to cast a spell and of course it wasn't going to work. The sword glowed...and so did the monolith...focus! He had injected too much of his soulself into the blade.

He glanced at his parents who were getting to their feet, brushing off the attempts of Samaya and Talia to get them to rest, and were also asking where Gilean was. It probably shattered and since they rushed forward, they took the brunt of the shrapnel. Then...nothing. Shit! That can't be all! There has to be something! Anything!

Using the clues from his memory, Silpherion tracked down the spot where Gilean should have been standing before everything faded in that strange light. Veo and Lauren were asking him something, but he tuned them out. Kneeling down at the spot where Gilean disappeared, he traced the ground for clues as to where he might have gone to. As his fingers stretched towards the spot, he felt the odd sensation of passing through water and he watched his fingers disappear.

He could still feel his fingers though and they felt like they had been placed into a sauna. Yanking his hand back, he examined his still intact fingers, though he felt no relief as a cold revelation became evident to him. Oh Gods, no. Veo and Lauren had stopped talking, they had seen what had just happened to his fingers.

Without wasting any time with words, Silpherion pressed two fingers to each eye and activated a highly specialized spell while desperately hoping his horrible suspicions wouldn't be confirmed.

'Dimension Sight' became active as his soulself enveloped his eyes. The colors of the world faded into a washed out grey as the spell took effect. Silpherion gazed in horror at the now plainly evident rip in reality that looked like the very world had been wounded. A jagged white, pulsating void that seemed to make the very air ripple around him, hovered directly over the spot he was examining.

Where his brother would have been standing was a breach.

It's hot. Those were the first thoughts that Gilean had when he had regained consciousness.

His entire body hurt, every tendon and muscle he had throbbed in unison, sending an agony coursing through him that threatened to send him back into the confines of his own mind. Overlaying all of that though, was an incomparable fatigue plaguing his entire body. He could scarcely manage to open his eyes, let alone twitch so much as a single one of his sore muscles. Even his own thoughts felt sluggish and so it took him a good deal of time, or so he thought, to realize he was moving.

No, that wasn't entirely correct. He was being moved.

Fresh waves of pain assaulted him as he was being jostled around on the floor of something that was moving alarmingly fast. They must have passed over a particularly rough bump in the road as Gilean's body left the surface of the floor and he was temporarily suspended in the air. The brief giddy feeling was quickly dispelled by something yanking him back down as he threatened to rise higher.

His body hit the floor and the sound of metal could be heard clanking. What was that?...An innate sense of danger warned him not to open his eyes too much or make any noise.

Cracking open his eyes the first thing he noticed was an unfamiliar landscape melting away in the distance at a rapid pace. It was a barren land that was sparsely populated with fauna and plant life that he didn't recognize. Something resembling a deer, but with two heads and large curved horns was bounding by the vehicle he was being transported in.

Yes, transported was definitely the right word for it. He focused his field of view so that all that filled his sight was the iron manacles shackling him to the metallic cage that he was currently a prisoner of.

It's so hot. He could feel his clothes sticking to him from all the sweat he had been producing. Gilean knew he wasn't anywhere near Nevara'el anymore. He closed his eyes and sharpened his senses. He could sense that there was a magical focus very near to him that was constantly drawing in the thunder element. Though for what reason it could be, he was not sure.

“Ease up on the throttle, you moron!” came a harsh grating voice in an even harsher language. Gilean badly suppressed a shiver when he realized that they were speaking in Demonic. One of the very first languages he had learned as a child along with Elvish, was Demonic. His family had relentlessly schooled him in both languages with the primary focus being on the language of demons. 'Victory is achieved by those who know their enemy.' said his father.

Yet it was one thing to hear the language in the sweet tones of his mother's voice and quite another to hear it from one of it's horrid natives. And despite his family's earnest teachings, there were more than a few words that he didn't recognize.

“**** you! If anything we need to go even faster than this! Otherwise we're going to lose the ****!” spat another voice.

Gilean chanced another look towards the source of the voices. Two figures. Heavily built with great curved horns curving over their heads. One had metallic blue skin and another was coated in an almost slimy-looking green substance. More importantly was that they were very large creatures, more than double the size of his father. Based on the size...they're most likely Class 3 demons...Titans!

They were talking again, Gilean hastily snapped his eyes shut when he saw one of them turn his head towards Gilean. “Are these **** really so fragile, Davouka?” said one of them doubtfully.

“This one is a child, Ravelga. The heat of two suns will be too much for such a creature.” curtly answered the one known as Davouka, “Dawn is quickly approaching and the protections of this cage will only protect it from so much.”

Two suns? Gilean's heart was hammering in his chest. Now even the possibility of escape seemed like a bad idea. The other titan grunted something that sounded like assent and Gilean felt a noticeable increase in their speed as the vehicle accelerated. For a few tense moments, they continued to travel in silence and Gilean discreetly tried to see if he could remove the manacles that were shackled around his wrist.

If he was older, he might've tried activating his valence and snapping the metal bindings. As it was, the only thing that Gilean could think of was breaking both his thumbs to be able to wiggle out of the bindings. The thought of mutilating his own body like that frightened him, but the thought of being held captive by these demons terrified him even more.

But even if he got out of the shackles, what then? He was still locked in a cage and possibly stranded in an unfamiliar world. Not just any world either...!

This place...I'm in the...Demon World. How...How did I even get here?! Gilean's thoughts froze as he remembered the words from Teacher Retsa: “Breaches are the most common ways that Demons, and various other creatures, can get into our world.”

A breach. The last thing Gilean remembered was being surrounded by a bright light in the clearing. What if that was the opening of a new breach? Was he the only one to get sent here? Where was his family?! He could feel his breath becoming ragged and he quickly forced it back to a normal pace, worried of alerting the demons to his awakened status.

He had to think calmly if he wanted to get out of here now. Don't worry about them now, I just have to figure out a way to get out of this. He had a goal now, if a little bit unrealistic, but it helped him to calm down. Escape. That's all he had to worry about now. The only question was to how he was going to do that.

As soon as he had thought about the problem, the answer came to him in a flash. If a breach was how he got to this world, that would be how he would get out.

Time was a crucial factor as he recalled that breaches were liable to collapsing at any moment. But if I tried breaking out now...he considered the strength of the cage. A formidable opponent by itself, not to mention that he would have to somehow deal with the two titans as well. A third problem was the distance they had already covered. Gilean was confident he could find his way back to where they had picked him up, by following the trail that the vehicle was making in the ground. But to make the journey on foot would be nearly impossible.

Unless I could somehow hijack the vehicle...Dangerous thinking, but it might be his only option. He couldn't pull it off now, but when they had come to a stop, he'd be able to make his escape then. In order for any of the myriad of plans that were running through his head to have a shot at working, he needed to understand exactly how this vehicle was running.

Exhaling slowly, Gilean sharpened his magical focus and concentrated on the seemingly random flow of thunder elements that streamed through the air. He may have had no talent for actually doing magic, but he had studied every aspect of it relentlessly from whatever source of information he could get it from. Whether it was books, teachers, friends or even scraps of legend; Gilean had an insatiable hunger in his pursuit of magical knowledge.

Gilean and his brother Silpherion were together in the Glade one late afternoon. It was a particularly fond memory of his, not just because he was learning something new about magic, but because it was one of precious few times that he got to spend with his big brother.

From an early age, when he was only a little older than Gilean himself at the time, Silpherion had been hailed as a prodigy. He went on missions with the adults when most of his peers remained in the forest. Oftentimes, he would outperform the older members of his village on such missions. Barely a few years after he had entered adulthood, he attained the title of 'Kalvelum Satenya'; signifying his position as the strongest of Nevara'el.

But he was never arrogant about it. Never bragged about his obviously superior abilities. He only gave people that reckless smile of his; a smile that contained only pure joy about being able to fully utilize his strength. The village cherished him for his abilities but they loved him for that smile. Gilean was no exception.

His parents were already excellent and his brother, even more so. Yet it might've been that smile of his that had driven Gilean to pursue his studies so relentlessly. So that maybe one day, he'd be like his brother and they would go on the most amazing adventures together.

Today, Gilean had begged Silpherion to teach him more about magic; something that he'd been struggling with for quite some time. Some of his friends could already use a few spells; Stilvan who was a few months younger than him could already use a basic freezing spell. It wasn't as if he was lacking in any magical aptitude either; thus Gilean thought that it was his lack of knowledge that was the limiting factor.

A small part of him knew that wasn't really the case though.

“An elementalist that is compiling a spell is doing something that is every bit as challenging as designing a house.” said Silpherion. “And the process that a swordmage follows in designing spells is the same. If carried out by someone who is untrained and severely lacking in experience, that house could come crashing down on the person and everyone around them.” warning Gilean with a severe voice.

“Yes, ava.” replied Gilean just as seriously. It was information he already knew, but it was important nonetheless.

Silpherion raised an eyebrow in apparent disbelief, “Tell me: What are the four essential steps involved in constructing a spell from the Elemental School?”

His frustration must have been evident on his face, for Silpherion continued in a softer tone, “This is important Gilly. Whether you think you know this already is irrelevant. As your teacher in this respect, I need to make sure you're fully equipped with the appropriate knowledge, rather than risk a faulty spell due to some piecemeal information you may have collected.”

Gilean flushed with embarrassment and muttered something that sounded like an apology. A vein twitched in Silpherion's forehead as he crouched down and faced Gilean on his level. Almost gently, he placed both his hands on Gilean's face and began tugging Gilean's cheeks apart.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” cried Gilean.

“Eh? I couldn't hear what you said? You might-” Silpherion started pinching his cheeks as he pulled on the soft folds of his flesh, “-want to speak up!”

“Sorry, sorry!” hastily apologized Gilean. As soon as he had done so, he was abruptly released from the vicious hold of his brother's fingers. Gilean rubbed his sore cheeks and gazed reproachfully at Silpherion.

“So what are those four steps again?” asked Silpherion, a grin on his face now.

Gilean bit back a scathing reply (his cheeks were still hurting!) and gave the answer Silpherion was looking for. “Gathering, Linking, Pulsing and Maintaining in that order.”

“Details.” replied Silpherion curtly.

“Step 1 or Gathering is the collection of the different elements present in the world in discrete amounts with the application of mana. Linking is the joining of these elements in specific patterns or structures in order to quite literally build the spell. Elements are held together in these formations again with the application of more mana in a way that is similar to a needle and thread.” said Gilean with a detailed explanation.

Silpherion nodded approvingly and gestured for him to continue. It gave him a small flush of pleasure at that motion, even though it was stuff that Gilean considered to be basic. Trying not let any of these emotions through, he proceeded with his answer in a collected manner. “After Linking, the next stage is Pulsing which is so named because of the surge or 'pulse' of mana that is released through the linked chain of elements in order to activate the spell.”

“Which of these stages can those with proper training be able to sense?” interrupted Silpherion.

“Normally only Stage 1.” replied Gilean instantly, who had been expecting an interruption at some point.

“Why only normally?”

Gilean hesitated before answering as the explanation was still currently a theory in the world of magic research. “Those with magical potential are constantly aware of the different elements in the air around them. While they may not know exactly what they're sensing, their magical senses are able to instinctively feel the presence of these basic components of matter. That is why any disturbance of these elements, such as during a spell, can be felt.”

“Mana is a different story though. The mana from person to person is as unique as it is between individuals-”

“What about twins?” interjected Silpherion.

“...Still unique?”

“Good guess.” chortled Silpherion, waving a hand for Gilean to continue.

He smiled and then got back on track, “Because we aren't constantly around this unique mana like we are with elements, we won't sense the changes associated with linkages and pulses. We might able to if there were only a small amount of elements in the air, but it's like an ocean of the stuff, and it's hard to concentrate on how drops of that ocean are being re-arranged without complete focus. And getting that kind of concentration would be pretty much impossible if you're in a fight.”

“The exception is when you're exposed to the unique mana as much as you are with elements like with close friends or family. In such cases, one would...have an advantage in being able to sense what kind of spell is being prepared in advance.” finished Gilean.

“Nice explanation! Good to see you're properly studying.” praised Silpherion. Gilean awkwardly rubbed his head as he felt his cheeks becoming warm. “Alright, continue with the fourth stage of elemental construction.”

“Ahem,” Gilean cleared his throat a few times before lapsing back into the original question, “The third stage; pulsing, will only cause a brief flare-up of the spell after which time the elements that were gathered will begin to disperse naturally, a magician needs to be able to supply mana for a certain amount of time in order for the spell to take full effect. This is the last stage known as Maintenance in which the thread of mana is maintained in order to keep the spell actualized.”

“Does one need to continue to supply pulses of mana in order to do so?” cut in Silpherion.

“...For some spells?” answered Gilean hesitantly.

“For example?” replied Silpherion with a maddening grin.

“...Um...for example...Chain Lightning.” hazarded Gilean with a guess. Silpherion raised both eyebrows in derision and Gilean cast a downcast glance towards the ground, “I'm not sure ava...sorry”

“Don't be, you actually guessed right.” laughed Silpherion, redoubling his laughter as Gilean processed what he said.

“Ava!!”

Gathering, Linking, Pulsing and Maintaining. Gathering, Linking, Pulsing and Maintaining. Gathering, Linking, Pulsing and Maintaining...

Gilean repeated this string of four words to himself like a mantra. It helped to focus and organize his thoughts as he considered the nature of the demonic vehicle. Davouka and Ravelga were still bickering with each other, and while he was partially listening in on their conversation to make sure he didn't miss anything important, the majority of his brainpower was on focusing on the thunder element that was being gathered.

Yes, gathered was the right term for it. Because he was lying down and the only thing he had to concentrate on was just the elements, he could see that the thunder elements weren't being gathered into a specific formation. They just seemed to be...coming together in one spot.

He couldn't be sure, but Gilean was reasonably confident that this vehicle operated on a different principle than the Sea Serpent created four years ago, which made use of clever enchantments and mechanical gears. Hmm, but maybe this also makes use of mechanical parts as well or maybe this some strange spell that only demons know or...or...maybe...

Gilean's brain was racing through various possible scenarios, drawing from his admittedly limited knowledge of advanced magical technology from his own world. Something he was beginning to suspect wouldn't matter much here. A few minutes passed in furious concentration as Gilean became more and more frustrated with the lack of ideas and his utter powerlessness. Ahhhhh! I don't know! I don't know!

Gilean banged his fist against the cage in his anger and immediately froze as he became horribly aware of what he just did. Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

“Is he waking up?” said Ravelga. He could hear the demon that just spoke shifting in his seat to get a better look at Gilean.

Asleep, they'd let their guard down. Awake...he might as well forget about escaping. Despite his mounting fear, Gilean continued to breathe peacefully and, in a risky move, muttered something unintelligible as if he were talking in his sleep.

“Hmph, guess not.” muttered Ravelga.

“Good.” said Davouka, “I'd rather not drag a screaming child to the holding chamber.”

“I thought you said they were fragile?”

“Too fragile but they can have unexpected strength. Especially if they happen to be gifted with magic. The last time I handled such a child, I accidentally crushed their skull.” grumbled Davouka, “Made a mess of the car.”

Gilean suppressed a shudder, continuing to play the role of the sleeping child as best he could. He was about to return to his magical investigation of the demonic vehicle when the two demons started a new conversation that chilled him to the marrow of his bones.

“Do you think this child has magic?” asked Ravelga, the voice sounding further away now, indicating that he was once again facing towards the road.

“You did not take a good look at this child, but he is from the race of Long-Ears.”

“Really?” Ravelga shifted around once again in his seat, most likely to get a better look at Gilean. “Then this child is being delivered to...?”

“Yes, their species are a particular favourite of the Duchess.”

Ravelga made a low whistling noise, “Might be better for the child if he died right now.” he ruined any sense of concern he seemed to have for Gilean with a snort, “Though now I see why you're being so careful with this one!”

Davouka gave a dark laugh, “Quite the payday when we bring this one in.”

“You think our oh-so noble Earl will try to screw us over on this and claim credit?”

“Undoubtedly.” muttered Davouka, “That's why we need to get him in the chamber as fast as possible and contact Elmyn on our own.”

The two continued to discuss various plans but Gilean had stopped listening to their conversation as soon as they had mentioned him being handed over to a duchess. Shamefully, Gilean felt the area between his legs become warm as a single tear escaped from his eyes and rolled down his cheek.

Save me...someone...anyone! Please!

Silpherion and his father were once again in their treehome, the absence of his mother and younger brother could be keenly felt in the stifling atmosphere that filled the room. With quick and efficient movements, the two elvnmaga outfitted themselves in a pair of matching silver scaled armour that hugged the entirety of their body and perfectly outlined their muscular frames. Looking more like a second set of metallic skin, this so-called draconscale armour boasted incredible defensive capabilities while at the same time allowing a full range of motion.

“Food and water?” asked Silpherion as he snapped his two longswords into special holsters on either side of his waist with a series of loud clicks.

“Glendara and Samaya are taking care of it.” answered his father who was pulling on a pair of deceptively plain-looking hobnailed boots that covered the patch of bare skin not encased in the draconscale armour. As soon as he had finished tightening the laces however, the suit flashed and the scale pattern seemed to slowly drip downwards as if it were melting and completely covered the boots. After a moment, the writhing mass of metal settled and the boots now looked as if it were always part of the armour, as no line could be seen that indicated where the armour ended and the boots began.

Despite their advantage as swordmages, neither Silpherion or Althian ever equipped a full helm. Instead they opted for a pair of gleaming golden circlets inscribed with the elven words for protection and repulsion to adorn their heads. Althian finished his outfitting by sliding his intimidating, midnight-black greatsword into a baldric on his back.

“Where is mother's wand case?” Silpherion knelt down and opened the cabinet where she usually kept it, only to find the cabinet filled with nothing but books and inkwells.

“Ahem.” his father made a noise with his throat and directed his eyes meaningfully to the top of the cabinet.

“What?...Oh.” There was a single highly polished mahogany case with a lavishly detailed inscription that read as: 'Mama's Wands' with a symbol of a heart placed at the end of the title, all decorated in the flowery script of his mother's delicate handwriting.

His father clapped a hand to his shoulder, looking as if he was about to say something. He stopped when Silpherion gave him a determined gaze, “I'm good.”

“I know, son. I know.” His father embraced him in a short, but tight, hug. Pulling away from him, he gave Silpherion a lopsided grin, “Ready to go hunt some demons?”

“Hell yes.”

Silpherion and his father quickly descended the ladder from their treehome and began to run back towards the Glade. At the pace they were setting, any elves that happened to be up at this hour would be unable to catch up to them and ask them what was going on. In the course of a few minutes, they emerged from the thicket of trees into the Glade. No trace of physical exertion could be seen on either of their perfectly calm countenances.

There were a few more elves in the clearing now, all of whom Silpherion recognized as expert fighters and support. He glanced at one of the two elves in white robes with a bit of melancholy. The thin robes looked small on the elf's unusually massive and muscular frame which completely contrasted with the passive nature of elvnmas in question.

As if sensing his stare, the elvnmas glanced up from his discussion with the other robed elf and gave him a curt nod, before beckoning the pair of them over.

“Good to see you, Banark.” grasping the other elf's outstretched forearm. His father was greeting the other elvalya who was holding something in her hands.

“Wish it were in better circumstances.” replied Banark. He held up a hooded cloak as his robed compatriot did the same, “You two will need these. Scouts say it's pretty warm on the other side.”

Silpherion was already shrugging on the cloak, fiddling with the ends of his swords so they didn't stick out odd angles. “How long will they last?”

“Heat-resistance enchantment should be good for a few hours, though the longer you're exposed, the faster it'll wear off.” answered the other elf, whom Silpherion recognized as Mina: Banark's teacher in the priestly ways.

“Thank you. Both of you.” thanked his father sincerely.

“If I could come with you, I-” began Banark, before he was gently cut off by Silpherion.

“I know. I do too. Your healing skills would've been indispensable were it not for the very nature of the Demon World to render everything from the Spirit School useless.” Clapping him on the shoulder, he gave Banark a conspiratorial grin “But those same skills could be invaluable when we return, so don't get dragged off by Veo on another stupid adventure like usual, eh?”

“Depends on the adventure.” chuckled Banark. Silpherion laughed in return as he and his father made their way over to the group of elves surrounding the breach.

Apparently, Lauren had taken the job of maintaining the breach on this side; her brow was furrowed in concentration as she stared at the spot where the breach was. While not a difficult spell, because only one person could maintain a breach on either side without it collapsing meant that she'd be there for a long time. Silpherion noted the line of elves behind Lauren, all of whom were capable of magic, ready to take over when her strength flagged.

Veo, Meera, Aume and several other elves were formed into three teams that surrounded the area of the breach in a loose semi-circle with weapons drawn and at the ready. Standing a few paces in front of the breach, but with their backs turned to it were Samaya and Glendara. Elders Vyon and Fomë were just behind them, standing motionless as they gazed at the breach.

“Got some stuff for you for the journey, Althian.” grinned Glendara, holding up two large leather belts with numerous pouches sewn on at regular intervals. One might think that two belts filled with meagre rations was hardly the correct amount for a potentially long journey. However, Silpherion knew that each of the pouches stitched onto the belts were all individual 'Bags of Holding': wondrous items containing a miniature pocket dimension inside of their leathery domains that were capable of holding several weeks worth of rations inside just one bag.

His father's brow was creased with worry as he took the belt and held it gingerly in front of him, as if afraid of the contents. “Who packed the bags?” he asked suspiciously.

Samaya's eyes twinkled merrily, “Don't worry, I was the one who took care of packing.”

With a look of relief, his father equipped the belt without any further objections; openly smirking at the scandalized Glendara. “How rude!” exclaimed Glendara, “I pack only the necessities!”

“And those necessities being?” asked Silpherion with full knowledge of his father's friend's vice.

“Whiskey, rum and good old-fashioned Nevara'el ale.” listed Glendara. He winked at Silpherion and added, “All of which you can find in the third pouch on your left-Ow! Kidding! I was kidding!”

Looking faintly embarrassed, Samaya stopped pinching her husband's side and released her painful hold on him. “We gave Tamara her own already. She's already on the other side, setting up a fortification around the breach with Lucas and Mejarna.”

“Thanks, Sam.” hugging his old friend and clasping forearms with Glendara.

It could be said that Silpherion and his father were taking things a bit too relaxed, no matter the efficient manner in which they were equipping themselves for the journey. But they were experienced warriors who knew the value of saying farewells to loved ones before embarking on a potentially fatal journey. Such rituals helped to prepare their minds and still their bodies from making any rash judgements that could prove fatal for all of them.

They stood before the entrance to the breach, with only Elders Vyon and Fomë in their way now. Of the ten elders in Nevara'el, these two were the only High Elves among them; the last of the original founders of the village. They were harsh and very strict when it came to enforcing rules; a rigid discipline based on a true love of helping the village grow.

“Luckily for you, this breach appears to be unusually stable.” commented Elder Vyon.

“How long will we have?” asked his father.

“A day. Perhaps half-a-day more before it's collapse.” answered Elder Fomë. She turned away from the breach and addressed the both of them directly. “I'm sorry we cannot send more with you, but the safety of the village comes first.”

Silpherion nodded bitterly. It was a harsh truth that the lives of the villagers were a priority...even over a child.

“We may be only three-” his father placed a hand on his shoulder, “But we are also the three strongest in the entire village.”

Encouraged by his father's words, Silpherion added his own piece, “We will be more than enough.”

Fomë's eyes softened, “Nevertheless Kalvelum Satenya...take care of yourselves...” she looked into both of their eyes, “And bring our child back safely.”

With mirrored actions, both father and son pressed their fingers to their eyes and activated the same spell. Once again Silpherion looked upon the blank void that had stolen his younger brother from him. In unison, they walked together towards the breach as the last words he heard Gilean say to him echoed loudly in his mind:

“Don't...leave me alone...”

“...Wait for me Gilean, I'll save you.” whispered Silpherion just as his foot passed the threshold into another world.

The Elven Language

Kalvelum Satenya: Peerless Blade