Ahern

Soundlessly he walked through the forest, camouflaged by the cloak he wore and aware of every little movement made in a hundred foot radius around him.

He was Veurion, a ranger of the East. At the moment, he is out doing a wizards bidding. But for all anyone knew he could be doing his own or someone else's bidding at any moment. Still he was, at the moment, doing the wizard Eareon's command. It's not that he liked the wizards, they had lost their true magic long ago, and had since stopped doing things for the good of the world and now did only what was good for them.

Anyway, the main thing now is that he is caring a practically dead man in his arms and that man needed help soon. The wizard had told Veurion where to find the man, actually he looked more like a boy, and so he went to get him and as well as the wizard off his back.

The boy was coughing violently and was starting to cough up blood. He had extensive wounds all over his body and might have had startling white hair where it not for the fact that it was now drenched with blood due to gashes in his scull. He also might have had some scruffy cloths on but they had since been reduced to bloody rags. The kid had been tied to a tree and, from what he could tell (which is probably the best you could ever hope for as he is a ranger and is good at telling things like this) had been beaten, whipped, and cut by a gang of some sort for a most likely unfair reason.

- I need to get him to the elves. They can help.

The elves had not forgotten the old arts. Only they and the last rangers knew the old arts and remembered the past in songs and stories. The rangers knew the land and the elves knew all other things. In the beginning, the wizards had as well but had since become more interested in other things like ruling the world, and other such unimportant pursuits. So, they slowly lost their ancient and magnificent magic, and now there are none of the ancient wizards left. They have all lost their magic; thus, they are always locked up in their towers and spires doing millions of nothings. Moreover, when they need something they go to the few rangers left and call upon the old friendships that use to join the two races together. Now the rangers are striving to keep the countries and borders safe and peaceful, and here comes the wizards saying, "We were friends of old and when you needed something we provided it now will you not return the favor?" when in the old days the wizards would freely provide help never asking for any thing in return.

Veurion remembered the wizards of old had helped him many a time; he had had many wizard friends then. Now, they are ether dead or have become one of the wizards who have lost all power and who think that just because they were once wizards of old they deserve the good life of riches and luxuries. While the rangers are out in the wild striving to give people at least a safe life from wild creatures, war hungry men, and other evils of old that have not lost any potency or strength.

- I'm not far from Hvaron. I could get him there in time.

"Hold on a little longer there okay?" The boy didn't say anything but fell into a light sleep with fitting coughs and hard breathing.

He wasn't far from Hvaron at all. Actually, he turned the bend and poof; there it was as if it just had popped out of the ground.

"Well we're here."

Hvaron was an all elf town. In human cities the elves were treated like scum, (Men think that elves are below them). Even the wizards who had once worked side by side with the elves now think that elves are below them. In real life elves should tower over the race of man and of the now powerless wizards. Anything elf made is sure to last your whole life. Their swords, like diamonds. Their armor, none finer. However, as the word has, it the elves are not treated the way that they ought to be and are forced to live in these little towns. Only the rangers now treat them with respect.

In truth the towns are quite big. This was amazing because no one could find these places unless they knew were they were located or were lead there. Such large towns were completely unknown to the human world. You could not just stumble onto these towns; it was as if some magic was protected them. Whatever it was worked because no one has ever stumbled into these places.

Veurion walked to the healers’ house, entered the small building and briskly made his way over to a bed and set the boy down.

“I need some help over here! I have a kid whose hurt bad!”

A she-elf came over.

"What happened to this poor boy?" she was shocked at the amount of blood that was still pouring from the boy.

"I don't know but he needs help now." He knew the ability of the elves were unparalleled when it came to healing and that the kid would be good as new in no time, that is if he doesn’t die first, then there would really be nothing the elves could do for him.

"Go outside and wait. I will send for you when I am done." She set strait to work (elves are not known for their conversational skills).

He left the house and walked around the bustling city.

Elves really were the leader in technology, yet at the same time, they refused to do anything that would hurt the nature around them. Even if they have to cut down a tree, they say their prayers and start a-chopping. Blacksmiths are also interesting to watch as they are constantly muttering their apologies to the metal they are working. Even so they are the best at most everything that they do and so no one can make fun of them as they could promptly have that person on their back crying for mommy (though they rarely do this as they are more peace loving creatures, though if you do insult their families in any way, they will hope you have your will all written and will promptly wallop on you all the while apologizing for any injury that may incur while they are beating the living snot out of you).

He went to a blacksmiths shop and bought a dagger, (as you can never have too many). While he walked around he heard his name being called.

"Veurion! Hey, Veurion! Over here!" Veurion looked in the direction of the voice and saw a person he had never expected to see again.

"Feron!"

Feron is the leader of the rangers. Veurion had not seen him in ages (literally).

"Veurion, how are you, and what are you doing here?"

“I’m fine but the reason I'm here is not."

“No riddles today, I don't have the time."

"The reason I'm here is because Eareon sent me to get something for him. That something turned out to be a kid. I'm not sure if he knew the conditions of the him when he sent me to find him but let’s just say he is pretty much dead."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. I may be here for a week or more."

"Even so it's good to see you old friend."

"And you."

"Veurion, I need to speak with you later, will you meet me at the tavern?"

"Sure."

"Good see you then."

"Farewell."

"Grändelúm."

They parted ways and Veurion made his way back to the healers for a progress report, stopping at a shop or two to buy some needed supplies as well as to set up a room for the night.

Elven markets are, as a rule open. If they are not, they will be, as soon as you ask “Excuse me, is anyone home?” as they quite enjoy selling their wares. Moreover, you will quite enjoy buying their wares, as they are the best to be found anywhere. If you need to restock your packs (which Vuerion really needed to do) this was the place to be. Haggling not required because they would be happy to reduce the price it you cannot afford it. What’s more, the food they sell is so filling it usually only takes a bite (two if you have been starving for about a week) and you are full to the brim. Speaking of brims, Elvin ale is the best to be had. Though the elves themselves do not partake of the drink, (they prefer instead heated fruity ciders) they make the best in the world. They have a very prosperous brewing company that has become the first true enterprise. It ships out to all human cities and even across the Great Sea. How they manage this, no one really knows, but they sure are happy that they do.

He finally reached the healer’s house (with well restocked packs) and was once again approached by the she-elf,

"He is sill recovering, but is doing much better now. Do you know what happened to him?"

"Sorry, but I don’t. I don't even know his name."

"I will ask him his name the next time he regains consciousness."

"Thank you."

"You know you may need to stay the whole week."

"I know. I have a room at the Inn."

"Good bye."

"What is you name?" he asked. This caught her off guard in fact his actually made her jump.

"Excuse me?"

"What is your name?"

She seemed a bit reluctant at first but in the end decide that it would be alright (the name wasn’t her real name anyways as no one would be stupid enough to tell that to a stranger, for that fact they wouldn’t ever tell their own parents, there are too many good grounding spell out there to risk it).

"Eürwen." She finally said and turned to go, quite put off by his request.

"Goodnight." He said to her back. He got no reply back.

He left the healers’ walked over to the tavern and sat down in the darkest booth. He ordered ale and waited. Sure enough, there was Feron. He walked over to Veurion’s booth and sat down.

"Sälúm."

"Hey."

"I need you to find someone for me Veurion, someone that may turn the tides of this battle." He got straight to the point with that one.

"Who?" He really wanted to know who could possibly fit that description.

"Ahern." He said it with a smug smile, as if he were sharing a jock with himself.

"Ahern?" (a name he had never heard before).

"Yes, he is very powerful...man."

"What do you mean man?" (Odd use of the word).

"I say man because he is neither wizard nor necromancer. He never even learned magic. He never studied the ancient arts; he is unique in that sense. His magic is his; it comes naturally. The guy was born with it!" Feron’s eyes lit as he went on getting even more excited as he went.

"How can that be possible?" Vueurion was truly curious about this.

Most magic is not something that comes naturally anymore. It was said that once everyone was born with some shred of talent, but that had sense ceased happening. Now, magic is either bought at a high price (usually a limb though, you can also do them a serious favor or pledge your life eternally to them alone), stolen from another who had the ability (this can get messy as they have magic and you do not), or is given to one by a powerful spirit (a demon or jinn) or by your parents for your birthday (which is usually a cruel joke, as they would then say “now you have no excuse form not doing your chores&rdquo.

"I don't know. However, I do know that he can control all elements, all creatures, and all nature. He can even shape shift!" he was now standing with his arms wide in the excitement.

This was even more unbelievable! The elemental creatures controlled the elements (all of which are a form of a dragon and not easily dealt with). Creatures can be coerced into obedience but rarely enjoy cooperating but by the way that Feron had said ‘control’ he knew that this was an innate obedience towards this Ahern that made them do his will. The control of nature, in other words the weather, was something only one wizard was ever capable of doing and he died shortly afterward after being struck by lightening (the weather does not like being told what to do). Finally, shape shifting! The ability to change form is one of the most dangerous forms of magic and many a wizard was unable to change back and was then hunted by the royal court as they heard wizards made the best sport. The changer loses all memory of his former self and was then stuck as what ever they turned into. Even if you managed to change back you picked up a few traits from what ever you had changed into, and there was a definite limit as to how many times your body can alter its shape before it just decides “heck with you I’ll be formed the way I want” and would then proceed to morph into a deformed and disgusting form or maybe even continue doing so perpetually. In addition, to shift your body you have to be able to heal yourself, a magic used most often, but it would have to be at an unheard of level for the amount of pain and healing that would be required to fix yourself before you die of heart loss. All in all a very hard and complex thing to attempt, but to be know for it, this guy could turn the tides of the war.

"He pretty much controls all third earth!" was about all Vuerion could manage as all these realizations went through his head.

"I know." Feron as he sat back down (they noticed the attention they were drawing to their dark corner of the world) and had a smile on his face that was bordering on the euphoric.

"Are you sure all this is true and not just some made up roomer to spread the fame of some true wizard wanna-be?" (This occurred often. So much so that were such a thing to truly happen they would probably get some sort of rotten vegetable thrown at them for announcing it.)

"Veurion I saw him with my own eyes. I saw his power." A look crossed his face but vanished as fast as it had come, but Vuerion had not missed it, there was something he was not saying.

"He sounds very dangerous."

"He is. Especially cense he can't control his powers."

"What? He has the power to destroy this planet and he can’t control it! How are we still alive! How did I not hear of this guy?”

"I don't know why but he can't. That is more a problem to him, though."

"How so?" he was calming down a bit and took a drink of his ale hoping to settle his nerves.

"Men fear him and so he is persecuted and rejected. He is an outcast of among his people. Find him and bring him to the border and we can help him master his power and welcome him among us. This is the key to our victory. He will finally belong." The look returned just as before Vuerion realized it was the though t of the end of the war that brought him such joy.

"I will find him. It may take awhile, though. The kid is still recovering but he'll be fine here until I find this Ahern."

"All right leave as soon as you can."

"I will. Farewell."

"Grändelúm." Feron left and Vuerion finished his ale with thoughts of what lay ahead of him, the wizard would have to wait.

Veurion walked out of the tavern and walked to the healer’s house. The boy would have to stay here until had he finished with finding Ahern. Eürwen would take care of him. When he got to the house he knocked on the door, (they apparently locked up after dusk).

"Shäleúm" came the lire like voice of Eürwen the Elf.

"Hello Eürwen, may I come in?" he asked in the most polite manner. Elves seemed in full glory at night.

"Yes, of curse. There are some things I'd like to talk to you about."

“As do I.” Veurion walked in and sat at a table near the door.

"Now how is the boy? Do you know his name?"

"I'm afraid not. He apparently has lost all memory."

"Well . . . anyway I need you to look after him because I will be going on another earned. And will probably not be back for a month."

"I'm sorry but you and I can't do that."

"Wait . . . what?"

"Well according to Elf law you are now his guardian and parent.”

"WHAT! I CAN'T DO THAT! THIS IS A LIFE AND DEATH SITUATION HERE! I MUST GO ON THE QUEST AND IF I DO NOT GET ON A MOVE ON NOW MORE LIVES WILL BE LOST IN VEIN! BESIDES, EVEN WAS WELL ENOUGH TO GO, HE WOULD SLOW ME DOWN TOO MUCH! I CAN'T POSSIBLY TAKE HIM!" he stood up, knocking his chair over.

"You must. For according to our law any person who finds a child, who has no living or known blood-kin, must become guardian of that child. And if your task is that important I suggest that you get a move on. I wish you luck, since so many lives are on the line. Now good night Sir. The boy is sleeping on the first bed down that hall." She pointed down the hall. "Now I will leave you in peace and may our Lord be with you." she bowed and left.

"But-" He stood there not believing this how could he take this kid with him and find Ahern?

"Oh, I almost forgot! Due to the boy’s serious injures he has lost his sight." said a voice down the hall.

"What!" he shouted down the hall and when there was no response, he took it to mean that she had left and so turned in the direction of the boy’s room. He stood there and ran his hands through his hair, making them fists part way through pulling at the thick chunks of brown in frustration.

-God this just keeps getting worse doesn't it. Oh well. I might as well get going.

He went down the hall and came upon the boy. He sat on his bed holding all the possessions that he owned to his knowledge (which, being, as he had no memory weren’t much). The boy had rugged cloths on showing that he was ready to go wherever they were going. To Veurion it looked as if he was looking at the ground, but sense he was blind that must be impossible.

"Ready to go?" he asked the boy.

"Yes." came a very quiet reply.

"Well come on then. We must make good time. You do know how to ride don't you?"

"Yes." again another quiet reply.

This was an odd request as rangers rarely if ever ride on horse back for a number of very plausible reasons. Firstly, horses are very loud, though some can be trained to make less noise, the only quiet horse that ever was happened to be a very unhappy one as it was being controlled at the time by a mage who was trying to sneak up to a castle where he was going to steal a peek at the beautiful princess in side who had been trapped there for some time. Sadly, upon seeing her aged and decrepit face, he had a heart attack and died on the spot. Thus any chance to sharing said spell was gone. Secondly, a horse in an unpredictable creature; though some can be trained to stand still through a raging battle, the best horses tend to spook at the most inconvenient of moments. For example: you are galloping through a forest (as you are in a terrible hurry to make it to your grandmother’s hundredth birthday) and then just because a squirrel in the forest just decided to drop the acorn that it was just eating, the horse hears it and BOOM! You now have a rearing menace under you and could possible fall off and upon hitting your head upon a rock, die. Now as rangers are in short supply as it is this can not be allowed. Thus no horses. (Though there is a special cavalry croup in their ranks, but it’s for the horse happy anyway). At any rate, it was an oddity, but due to his need for haste, Veurion had little choice in the matter.

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