Searching for...?

[Miri]

I had been wandering the lands for some months now, rarely seeing people I knew or coming into a town to replenish my stores.  Everything I had needed, I had made for myself or hunted for.  It had been many millennia since I had proved to myself just how self-sufficient I could be.  My time living in the house my husband and his brother had built for me had made me used to the finer things in life.
Once, I had lived in rough conditions, spending over three thousand years in a mountain cave alongside the other despised and hunted Houseless, often on the road or pretending to be someone else in the name of my various vocations.  But since the "madness", since I had staged my own death as well as my husbands in an effort to see him well again, since that time I had been living in luxury as a wife, a home-maker and, surprisingly considering my employer, a spy.  My days of forcefully ignoring my people's inherent claustrophobia, of living surrounded by rock and the constant threat of cave-ins, of putting myself through hell in order to discover or thwart the Dark Kin were long behind me and, I had thought, over for good.

Something, however, had driven me out of the house I had built for myself on this strange, foreign world.

Perhaps it was a need for space, some time alone to sort things through.

The joining of the two personalities I had kept strictly apart for so long had changed me a lot: the notorious killer and the gentle healer.  It had been difficult to make those two very separate parts of myself come together, to even admit that the persona I had created for myself when I had taken up the assassins profession in secrecy truly was a part of who I was, rather than just a part I played, like I had done so many others over my life.
That transformation was only recently complete, leaving me feeling truly whole and, I must admit, a little rattled.  It was one thing to know who you were, deep down in your soul, but another thing entirely to truly be that person, especially after so many years of pretending to be other people.

It was not just that, however, that I needed to come to terms with.
I am a long way from home, an entire reality and universe away by all accounts and there was no easy way to return to the lands and people I loved.  Somewhere, barely the breadth of a thought and yet the width of all that is away from where I stood now, my beloved husband searched for me, the daughter I was not yet reconciled with was giving birth to her first child and my two sons were probably causing trouble for other people, albeit in very different ways.
I missed them all more than words could say and yearned to be with them, to return to them, but I could not.

The situation with Icemere also needed thinking about.
I knew what my goddess, Lahessa, had told be about it all: that whatever happened in this reality had no bearing upon the one I had come from and would one day return to.  Still, I felt rather guilty about having fallen in love with someone else.
Nothing in any world or any reality could ever make me forget Fuegan, or put him aside.  He was my true husband, the elf I had loved for more than half of my life.  We had been through so much together, including the loss of an unborn child, the loss of one of his sons, his magic-induced madness, the conception of a child not my own on the eve before we were due to wed and various wars and hardships.  Fuegan is my soul-mate, my missing half.
And yet, here I was, in a strange place, a little over two centuries without Fuegan and I was sharing my heart with someone else.
We cannot change out hearts desire, but I could not help but feel I was betraying Fuegan in some way.
I had fought against my feelings for Icemere, tried to forget and bury them, but he and I had been friends.  He had often come to me just for someone to talk to.  Every time I had seen him, those feelings had come rushing back and I had been forced to fight them away once more.
In the end, though, the feelings had won.
Now I loved two elves.  One I had not seen for a long time, but could never forget and one I would have to leave one day.

I spent much of my time on the road thinking these things over, presuming that it was my inner turmoil that had caused me to shirk society for a time.
When I returned, however, I discovered my mistake.

(to be continued....)

[Miri]

I had gone to my house, walked through the dark, silent and familiar rooms, taken in the sense of the place and suddenly I knew that I could stay there no longer.  I was.. restless.  The building had become a home to me, but it was not home.  I no longer felt comfortable there, no longer felt safe.
My heart began to thud in my chest.  The short hairs on the back of my neck rose, as sometimes they did when I sensed danger.  My skin tingled in a most disconcerting way and for a moment, only a moment, I thought that perhaps Shornaal had decided to make good on his promise ahead of time.
Swiftly, I pulled the dagger from their sheathes at my hips.  Using the shadows to my advantage, but never quite walking them as I normally would, I stalked through each room and even out on to the balcony searching for servants of that god.  Unsurprisingly, I found nothing.

I took a moment then.  A moment to breathe and consider.

A moment was all it took for me to realise that this building was no longer for me.  I would never again find peace within those walls.

My mind made up, I left that place and went in search of Icemere.
Appearing in front of his snowy fortress, I found myself feeling a little guilty.  I had left without a word, not even leaving a note for him.  I had not returned to see him until now and had sent no messages.  It was wrong for me to have done that and I knew I would need to apologize.  Now, I thought, would be a good time to start making it up to him.
When I went inside, however, I found the wide, stone hallways to be cold and lifeless.  No fire burned in the grate of his sitting room and his bed had not been slept in for some time, it seemed.

Instantly, I knew worry.
It was not like Icemere to disappear.  He had responsibilities to his guild and he always saw to them most diligently.  In truth, that got on my nerves sometimes, especially when he had promised to spend a little time in my company but then ran away to tend to some matter or other that could have been handled quite easily by the others.
It was odd that he would leave like this.

Without him, his home seemed so empty and cold, so... heavy.  Spending only as long as I had to in order to determine how long it had been since he had last come here, I looked around and then left.
Outside, I felt better.  I spent some time searching for tracks around and near his house, but found only those belonging to people who had come to find him and even they were weeks old.

Icemere was gone without trace.

I sighed and quickly returned to the house that I had, for a time, called home.  Wasting no time in the seemingly alien rooms, I packed everything I owned and went to search for somewhere new.

(TBC...)

[Miri]

It took a little time, but finally I found a new place in which to make an abode.
Treesinging is not one of my talents, strange as it may seem.  To the elves of my world, the ability to speak with the trees, to request that they move their branches to grant us shelter, was almost entirely inherent.  True, only the Firstborns had each been blessed with that gift at birth.  Every generation afterwards had produced a vast number of elves with the ability in-born, but it is also true that all elves of Ennor'Galen can learn it.  I, however, never had.  I had tried, of course, but had never mastered it, even though my tutor was Secondborn and one of the finest Treesingers there is.

It is strange, I think, how my innate gift is one born of the first Chaos War.  My ability with Shadow Walking is strong, to the point where I can create my own shadows even in the brightest light.  Few elves with this gift can do that.  However, Shadow Walking is not native to elves, but to a certain breed of daemon.
Perhaps it is this that has hindered my attempts at learning the gifts natural to elves... I know not.

With my inabilities foremost in my mind, I enlisted the aid of my nephew, Eldryth, to sing a home from the trees for me.  He did a beautiful job, as always, and soon I was able to move my belongings into my new house.

However, it was not long before the restlessness came back.

After packing a few things into my bag, I sheathed my blades, stowed my crossbow in its holder and left that place.

It did not feel particularly good to be on the road again.  I wanted to wait for Icemere's return, to apologize for leaving him without word all those weeks ago, but something drove me onwards.

[Miri]

The days passed.  My guilt disappeared beneath the tumultuous sea of my need to keep moving.
I had no idea what I was looking for, only that I had to find it.  I was convinced that my prey would not be within a town but out there in the woods, somewhere beneath the trees.  However, which part of the world it might be in, I had no clue.

Somehow, as the moon rose and set night after night, I sensed that I was drawing nearer to what I sought.  In its own way, it was a rather frustrating feeling considering that one night I could be stalking the wilderness of Ilshenar and the next I could be far north of Vesper.  My search seemed directionless and yet still nearing its end. 
The feeling that it was almost over drove me on ever further and harder.  I had to find this... this... whatever it was.

[Miri]

One evening I set up camp in a wooded clearing.  It had been many days and nights since I had last stopped to rest and I was nearing exhaustion.
The fact that I had needed to stop so soon served to remind me just how long it had been since I had done this sort of thing.

Millennia ago, nearing the end of my second century of life, I had been trained most rigorously by my mentor and greatest friend, Akasha, known to those outside the Houseless Caverns as the Grey Widow.  She had taught me how to stay awake and watch day after day, night after night, with never a moments sleep, for anything up to two weeks.  She had taught me how to track my prey, those named in my contracts, with never a moments pause for the same amount of time.
That learning had come in most useful during my time as a spy and assassin, and also during the magic-induced madness of Fuegan when I had spent anything up to fifteen days awake, caring for our young child, watching lest Fuegans condition cause trouble for his House and smoothing over any problems that arose.
Now, however, barely seven days had passed me by and I knew that I could go no further.

Even as I took the time to rest, letting the gentle breeze cool me and the shadows of the night caress my skin, I felt the need to carry on with my search.
It was rather disconcerting, I must admit.
The last time I had felt such a burning desire to seek something, I had been out for the lives of those that had massacred my House.  It had been that overwhelming need, that yearning to eliminate the threat, the seemingly unquenchable thirst for revenge, that had led me to be exiled from the lands I had grown up in, to become a wholly different person in an effort to hide the truth of my origins.
After the assimilation I had gone through, allowing the alternate personality I had used as an assassin to join with the gentle one that everyone knew me by and thus become truly whole for the first time in my nine-thousand years of existence, I had to wonder if there was a darker need hiding behind the search, if the ending would turn out to be as bloody as the last time I had felt this way.

With the effort of will, I pushed those concerns aside and forced myself to ignore my wish to go on.
I needed rest.

I closed my eyes, lay back and let the moonlight wash over me.  All was silence.  Not even the nightbirds sang.
Eventually, I drifted off into a deep and refreshing sleep.

[Miri]

I awoke to the bright light if the morning sun and the sweet song of the birds.
I know I should have paused to break my fast, but I did not.  Instead, I packed my belongings and was on the move within moments of opening my eyes.  The need to search was burning within me brighter than ever and even though I had managed to do so for an evenings rest, I could no longer resist it.
I pulled some rations from my pack, chewing on them as I continued to walk.

I was so close to my goal... so very close, and yet, I still had no idea where it lay.

[Miri]

Time passed, seemingly days without end.  I was so close to my unknown goal that I could almost feel it, almost reach out and touch it, but still I had found nothing.
My time out in the wilderness now seemed to be blurring, one handspan of the sun becoming the next, a day becoming a week, then a season... I had no idea how long I had been on this hunt.

Once more, I must have worn myself out, for although I do not remember stopping to make camp, I do remember sleeping... and my dream.

It had been so vivid, so real.  I can be forgiven, I think, for believing it to be more than just a dream.

I had been standing there, in the corner of my bedroom.  I knew at once that it was my real bedroom, the one in my true home on Ennor'Galen, for there was no mistaking the beautiful Treesung furniture, or the living walls woven together from the tree within which my home was made.  Nor, and this is the most important part, could I mistake the sensation of belonging that I had gone without for so long.
It was almost heartbreakingly sweet to know that I was home once more.

I stepped into the warm summer light that cascaded through the wide window, breathed in the heady scent of my own world and sighed in relief.  In truth, I think I laughed a little at the joy of it.  I could hear the breeze in the trees, the chirping birdsong and the laughter of my kin.  Somewhere in that delightful mix of sounds, I heard the cries of a young child and found myself laughing once again.  Finally, I would get to meet my grandchild, the son of my only daughter.
It was then that I turned around to see Fuegan.  I took a step toward him, thinking to throw my arms about his slender waist and hold him as tightly as it was possible for me to do, but I stopped mid-stride.
Fuegan was not facing me.  Instead, he sat in a chair facing the bed, but I knew my husband well.  The set of his shoulders and the tension in his back told me more than words ever could.  Something was terribly wrong.

"I want her back," I heard him say, his rich voice tempered with sorrow.  "I want my wife back."
"I'm right here," I replied in confusion.
"I want her back," he said again, fiercely this time, as if he had not heard me  speak.  "Where is she?"
"I'm right here," I answered again, spreading my arms.

Something was definitely not right.  Even though I had not been looking at myself, I should have seen my own arms move when I made that gesture, but I did not.  Beyond confusion now, I looked down at myself.  What I saw made me gasp in shock.
I was, indeed, standing there, clad in the silver-white gown that I wore only when on official business for my goddess, but I was not... solid.  It seemed to my eyes that I was made of mist: insubstantial and transparent.  Suddenly, I did not want to be standing in front of the window.  I felt as if even the slightest breeze would blow me away, cause me to dissipate as if I had never been there.

"I told you," I heard a softly beautiful voice say.  "She is elsewhere for the moment, but she is safe."
I knew that voice.  Only one being had a tone that stroked my ears like the finest feather, so light and airy and full of love.  I looked up to see the goddess I had long since given myself to: Lahessa.
She stood there now, one fine white hand upon the shoulder of my beloved husband, her hair as glossy black as deepest midnight, the same shade as Fuegans.
"Her body is whole and well," she continued, consolation and reassurance colouring every note of her words.  "She will not die, Fuegan, I promise you this.  But, like the others, she is, for now, unreachable. Her mind had fled.  All we can do is wait for her to awaken."
"Where is she?" he asked again.  "I see her lying here... but she is gone.  Gone where?"

Lying there?  But...
Almost against my will, I moved forward.  The figures of Fuegan and Lahessa had been blocking my view of the bed itself, but a few short steps showed me everything I needed to see.
There was a figure in the bed.  Short, compared to other elves, and slender, she looked almost child-like.  Her red-brown hair fanned out around her head, cascading onto the pillows in long, thick waves.  Her pale face, as delicate in appearance as her slim silk-covered form, looked peaceful and her eyes were closed.  But I knew, without a doubt, that were those eyes to open now, they would be a rich shade of purple.  They would be my eyes, just like that was my face, and the form beneath the coverlet was my very own body.

"She is in a dreamworld," Lahessa sighed.  "A place I cannot go.  She is safe, she is well and in time, Fuegan, she will come back to you."

She must have felt me, felt my spirit form or whatever I was, for she looked over her shoulder and straight at me, a sadness and longing in those perfect green eyes that I had seen banished on the day she had finally found in me a disciple.
I'm sorry I didn't tell you, dear child, I heard her voice, but her lips did not move.  There was no time.  Continue the search.  The answers await you.

There was just enough time to see her turn back to my prone body, to see her offer a comforting pat on the shoulder to my dearest love and then...

I awoke in a clearing.
There was no time to consider my dream.  I had to move and quickly.  The search was almost at an end.

(this will end soon, I promise. hehe)

[Thane ir'Wyndan]

(Personally I enjoy the reading of it so no need to hurry on our account  )

[Miri]

I shall remember this day for a long time to come, I think.  It started out as near to normal as any day in this strange world had been, and yet this day was different.
This was the day that the first search ended.
This was that day that I found what I had been looking for.
This was the day that I gained my answers.
This was the day that everything changed.

I had walked for some time.  From the sunrise of three days before, through the hazy sunsets and chilly nights, my feet had not once paused in their measured tread.
Now, I stood atop the crest of a mountain, the cold, thin air turning my pale cheeks pink with its rough caress, and the clouds seemingly above and below me at the same time.  The view from here was breathtaking, with a vast sea of fluffy precipitation floating lazily along not so far down the slope, covering the ground for miles in every direction until, gazing at it, one could believe that all of the world was so cloaked.  Straight head I could see an achingly blue sky, lightly singed, or so it appeared, by the bright orb of the morning sun.
I took a deep breath, savouring the sting of its iciness and the freshness of its scent.  There was no sound here.  It was so quiet, so still, that not even my sharp elven ears could detect the slightest hint of noise, although I fancied that I could just make out a small sighing, slipping noise as the grey sea of cloud slid around the jutting edifice upon which I stood.

My moment of quiet contemplation over, I made my way down the slippery slope.  I knew now that my prize waited nearby and I had no wish to put off the triumph of finding it for even a moment longer.
I was careful in my descent, but that did not stop a particularly belligerent boulder breaking free beneath my scant weight and doing its level best to take me with it.  A hair-raising moment of uncertainty and a quick jump for safety later, I found myself hanging by one hand on a solid plateau, a black and grey abyss yawning below, awaiting one false move to claim me for its own.
Cursing profoundly, yet quietly in the irrational belief that loud and weighty words might cause me to fall, I carefully swung myself up so that I could get a better purchase upon the rock.  With a little time and effort, I managed to get my entire body up onto the narrow shelf and stood for a moment, breathing in the heady scent of victory.
In that short time, I heard a rumble and a crack but, before I could jump to relative safety once more, the shelf split away from the mountainside.
Enough was enough, I decided.
If this overgrown hill wished to take me to its foot at a faster pace than the one I had intended, then so be it!
I gave a small jump, landing on the moving rock with my feet spread apart, my knees slightly bent and my arms out to either side in an effort to keep balance.
I had to close my eyes to slits in order to see what was ahead of me.  The rush of the wind buffeting my slender body was strong and cruel but, I remember thinking, I must have looked an awesome figure to anyone who might watch, with my hair and cloak streaming behind me dramatically as I coasted down the slope on my broken ledge.

It was not long before the rock and I reached the foot of the mountain.  The rock itself slammed into the belligerent boulder that had plagued me earlier, flipping me up into the air.  I was not fazed though.  Drunk on adrenaline, I turned my headlong soar into a somersault and landed lightly on my feet some thirty paces away.
Laughing at the sheer joy of having survived such a thing, I strolled away from the mountain base and into the verdant forest that lay within the valley.

My prize lay here... somewhere.

[Miri]

The air here was somewhat cooler.  Sheltered from the full force of the wind though it was, the thick, leafy canopy lent deep shadows to the earth below.  Although I did not feel even the slightest breeze whilst walking between the silent, giant, woody sentinels, I did feel the chill in the undergrowth that the trees had refused to relinquish through their many centuries of growth.
It was peaceful here, dark and quiet, and did I not have the need to search further and quickly, I would have simply set myself down on the frosty mulch and enjoyed the comfort of a place that reminded me so much of the lands in which I had spent nearly all of my adult life.

It is strange to think I would miss the Land of Chill, the kingdom in which I spent so long pretending to be someone else, killing one elf after another, watching, thwarting or sometimes starting inter-House wars.  Stranger still, perhaps, in light of that fact that it was those lands in which my story began, those lands in which my forgotten family were massacred.
But walking here, beneath the dark and brooding boughs of an ancient woodland which had taken the bitter winter into its very heart and now refused to give it up, I was reminded very much of the place that I had called home for so long.

I remember closing my eyes and just breathing in the scent of the place, letting the feeling of something so close to home just wash through and around me.  My feet carried on of their own accord and the sharp crackles of dead, ice covered leaves beneath my boots was like music to my ears.
Perhaps that is how I knew exactly where to go.
In that moment, that blissful moment of reminiscence, I was not hunting, but allowing myself to be led to where I needed to be.

After a time, I opened my eyes once more, finding myself to be refreshed and invigorated.  Before me stood a tall screen of thick undergrowth.  I knew, without a doubt, that a clearing awaited me on the other side, so without further ado, I slid my hands between the branches and carefully pried them apart.
Stepping through, I was, perhaps surprisingly, unsurprised by what I found there.
The north and east corners of the clearing had been shut off from exposure by a windbreak carefully constructed from fallen branches.  Not so far from there, in a natural hollow surrounded by stones, was a brightly burning campfire.  Over that was a spit, upon which a bird had been set to roast.  To the west, on the bank of a small stream, a blond-haired elf appeared to be washing some dishes.
He had his back to me and I was in his camp, so I did the polite thing and called out my presence.

He cringed at the sound of my voice, laid his dishes aside and turned to face me, a well-crafted bow notched and pointed, ready to fire.
Even did he not have a weapon trained on me, I would have been too shocked to move.
I knew this elf!

The last time I had seen him, he had been stretched out on his funeral pyre, eyes closed and heart stilled, awaiting the last of those who would do him tribute to lay their own sticks to the pile.  The last time I had seen him, the flames had begun to consume his lifeless body as those who had known him in life looked on and wept at the injustice of his tragic passing.

I could not be him, I thought.  I saw him die, I attended his funeral as well as the celebration his diminutive and gentle pixie wife had held in remembrance of his life.  I had led the investigation into whose arrow had ricocheted off the demons hide to strike this elf in the throat during the last Chaos War...
But it was him.
There was no mistaking his features, striking as they were and yet softly childlike in his innocence, nor the determined, but timid way he held the bow.  Even my ability to sense those around me told me that this was the elf I knew without doubt.
But how could it be?

"Kaledor...?" I asked.