Sands of Time - 3. Chapter 3

Mablin raised his head up just enough to see who had entered his tent, before letting it fall back to his arms that were crossed on the table.

“How are you feeling?” Gradon asked as he took a seat across from the table.

“Like I was the one that got hit by a Rhinoling, rather than a wagon.” The response came without raising his head. From the back of the tent, Tersa, Mablin’s personal slave, came out and poured Gradon a drink, and set it in front of him, before going back deeper in the tent.

“So, what in the name of all the hells happened out there?” Gradon asked, leaning forward, trying to keep his voice down.

Still keeping his head buried in his arms, Mablin shook his head and spoke, barely able to be heard. “First, tell me what is going on now.”

“Well.” Gradon began after ordering his thoughts. “After whatever happened to you happened, I ordered the men to move the wagons that could be moved off the road and set up camp. Out of our eleven wagons, three are not able to be moved yet. Two have broken wheels, and one has a broken axle. I sent Sandor to find the broken wagon that our new friends mentioned. To see if it is salvageable. He took two of the others to bury the bodies our friends said were there. I also sent Madelyn and Aegir back to Bradenton to see about buying a wagon. I am sure that many of the townsfolk will come back with them, if for nothing else than to see the Dragon. ”

“Considering the Dragon came out of nowhere, I am amazed we not only survived but have so little damage.” Mablin opined.

“True. We have our new friends to thank for that. Oh… they offered to guard the prisoners after they set up their own camp on the other side of the road. They decided to let the two young rhino-looking things, and the young weird dragonling, be used to help with the cleanup. Also, one black dragonling and 2 orcs survived, right now they’re chained to a tree with one of those huge scorpion things watching them.”

Mablin barked a laugh, then groaned, but spoke. “I bet they are behaving themselves.”

Gradon also laughed but his was a fully out belly laugh. “As if they were in the temple to their primary god.” Gradon lowered his voice. “Especially since the other scorpion thing carried over one of the dead orcs, and they ate it, right in front of them.”

Mablin raised his head to stare at Gradon disbelievingly. When Gradon nodded his head while grinning, Mablin simply moaned loudly and let his head fall back to his arms. Gradon waited for Mablin to say something but when he didn’t, Gradon continued with his report. “The dragon’s body has completely blocked the road, so we’ll have to cut it up before we continue.

Mablin’s head shot up from his arms. “What?” he almost shrieked. “Continue? That is not happening. We will cut it up and take as much as we can to sell. Do you have any idea how much that dragon is worth?”

“I see,” Gradon said with a chuckle. After almost a full minute of silence, Gradon cleared his throat, causing Mablin to raise his head just enough to look at him. “So, now can you tell me exactly what happened?”

Mablin looked at him critically for a moment before he sighed. “The signet rings are real.”

“Wait,” Gradon said while leaning forward. “You mean the Drow is actually royalty somewhere?”

“Yes,” Mablin said simply, then continued. “That is not the worst part.”

“Excuse me?” Gradon said in disbelief.

“The Elf… well at least I thought he was just an Elf. His signet ring marks him as a Prince…” That caused Gradon to sit back shocked.

“Prince?” he whispered, a mixture of horror and awe.

“A prince of the Alphar…” Mablin finally made his mouth say the words that had been running around his head since he woke.

Gradon just sat there stunned. Neither knew how long they sat there, both absorbed in their own thoughts, especially about the long-extinct Alphar when a man rushed into the tent. So startled were both men that they both shot to their feet, weapons drawn, and the new man was almost impaled. They lowered their weapons when they realized it was Pace, the lead driver. "Ehhh… me sorry sir Mablin, but… you's gots ta hear this!" The dwarf said quickly while tugging on his beard, something he did when he was really nervous.

➿➿➿➿➿

Syth walked up to the small group and could tell immediately they were terrified of him, even though all three were bigger than he was. He looked around and spotted a large log sitting just inside the wood line. He activated his translation stone and pointed to the largest of the Rhinolings, then the log. “Drag that over here.” The boy seemed to jump in his own skin to comply. Syth knew Rhinolings were strong but seeing them in action, so to say, was impressive. It would have taken Garnet and Olpha working together to move that log, but this boy picked the thing up, threw it on his shoulder, and plodded back over to him. He waited with the log on his shoulder until Syth pointed to a spot on the ground. When he dropped it, Syth felt the earth beneath his feet tremble. Syth shook his head but spoke softly. “Sit.” All three rushed to comply.

Syth took a deep breath and then moved to stand in front of the boy that just got the log. “What is your name?”

“Sigvat, but I take whateva name ya wish.” His eyes never went higher than Syth’s waist as he spoke, then started to shiver. Syth shook his head in disgust. “What is your equivalent age?”

“9 human years maseer.”

Syth then moved to the next one, whom he thought was a female. “What is your name?” He asked again, trying to keep his voice neutral. “And what is your equivalent age?”

“If’n it please ya maseer, Grima be what I’ve ‘en called, I be 7 human years.” She also never raised her eyes above Syth’s waist.

Syth moved to the dragonling and asked the same questions. “Amara, I be 8 years.” Syth though needed to know more from him. Which meant dealing with their language. While he had dealt with bad language skills as he grew up, nothing he had ever heard was this bad.

“What type of dragonling are you?” While not an expert on dragons, he’d known enough to know that even if you had a very rare muttling, a dragonling born of two different colors, they would not have the scales of both parents but favor one or the other. This one had both black and green scales.

Amara looked up briefly, then quickly snapped his eyes back down to the ground. “I not know masseer.” Syth was stunned for a moment since he could not understand how he could not know. “Can you breathe yet?”

“No Masseer, I no be old nough.” At least there was enough dragon in him to know what Syth meant when referring to his breath weapon.

Syth reached into his pouch and pulled out a set of Drow Black Steel lock picks. He squatted down and looked at the iron shackles that encircled the dragonlings' ankles. He almost laughed as he pulled out two picks. It took him less than ten seconds to unlock each shackle. When the last one fell away, he grabbed the chains and stood up.

“Okay. From now on, unless something else is decided, you are mine. Is that understood?” Syth may have been overstepping his bounds a bit, but he was not going to just leave them to the others. Who knew how they would treat them?

They all chorused a “yes masseerr,” and Syth nodded. “Good. Now I am Syth, and I have a few rules. First, you do not speak unless spoken to, and I give you permission to speak.” He did that more for their safety than anything else. If Garnet heard them speak, he might kill them just for speaking so poorly.

“Next,” He continued, “you will address everyone as Sir or Ma’am. I do not want to hear you use the word master again, is that clear?”

“Yes… Sir.” They all chorused, the little girl started to call him master, but stopped and called him sir. This rule was to see how smart they were.

“We will deal with the rest later. Are any of you hurt?” He was relieved when he saw them all shake their heads. “Follow me.” He said, then turned and walked towards their camp. He didn’t bother looking back as he could hear the two Rhinolings walk. What they had in strength they lacked in grace. He was curious about what they were doing here. This area was colder than where Syth knew they came from, south of Seandra.

“Xavier,” Syth said as he walked over to where Xavier was seated. Olpha had just finished going over the injuries that the Dragon’s death did not heal. Behind him nervously walked the three young slaves. “I was thinking about taking these three around to help with the cleanup. They seem to be too young to have done much wrong, and frankly, these two are very strong, so they may be able to help.”

“Good idea.” Xavier agreed. “But stay close. I still don’t know what is going on with this group.”

“I agree, but until the caravan master, Mablin, is well enough to speak to, I do not think we will learn much.”

“Probably not,” Xavier said with a nod. “What kind is he? Looks like some weird type of black and green mottling.”

Syth nodded and spoke. “He is not sure, and he has not started to breathe yet, so we won’t know which one he will have. Personally, between Acid or Poison Gas, I would prefer neither.”

Xavier and Olpha both just snorted in amusement before Syth walked away, the three following behind like obedient puppies… albeit very large puppies.

➿➿➿➿➿

Killian sat alone watching the wagon drivers work on fixing the damaged wagons. The guards were helping, but also wary, and watching for more attacks. Diana, who was sometimes called the dog lady, was walking amongst the hobbled moose-camels and horses. She was hired to use her dogs to keep them herded near the camp, as well as to alert them if there was something nearby that shouldn’t be there. Right now, she was checking over the animals to make sure they were not hurt. She wasn’t trained, but she did have a subfield as a healthman specializing in animals.

He was watching all this, but his mind was elsewhere. Less than ten minutes ago, he learned that he had moved from a Secondary Echelon Sorcerer to a Teaching Echelon Sorcerer. By creating an item out of magic, and seeing how long it lasted, he knew where he now stood in the ranks.

He was just past his twentieth birthday, making him just past fourteen in equivalent years. He was already considered advanced for his age, but now… now he didn’t know what to think. He also knew enough about magic and progression that he was in a bit of trouble.

His uncle would help him, but he absorbed so much magic and advanced so quickly, he needed to cast as much as he could. For more times than he could count he was glad Uncle Mablin had paid for that camp. Even if it were more for impressing a particularly rich merchant, he still learned so many invaluable lessons during that week.

➿➿➿➿➿

Killian was just a quarterling, or a Q-ling if you wanted to be insulting. He rarely ever saw his father and didn’t fit in with his halfling mother or her family. He honestly didn't fit in with anyone. By the time he was the equivalent of eight, he was already taller than his mother. He knew she was going to get rid of him somehow, but when he learned she was planning on selling him he was crushed. She wasn’t very close to Killian to begin with, forcing him to basically raise himself from the time he was old enough to do so. He did odd jobs around the town to get food. He was six when he first learned that some adults would pay you to spend the night with them. So long as he was careful, it wasn’t too bad. Plus, in his mind, he was just following in the footsteps of his mother.

He was eight when Mablin came into his little farming town. That is when his life changed. When Mablin first approached him, he thought the man wanted to buy him for the night. He looked like a rough man, and Killian was getting worried. The man looked him up and down, then turned to a young woman who was with him. “Clean him up, get him proper clothing. He will join me for dinner tonight.” The man took one last look at Killian, then turned and walked away.

That night, he formally met Mablin. “I am sorry to tell you that your father has died,” Mablin said. It had been more than three years since he last saw the man, and only saw him maybe half a dozen times before that. “I still owe him a sizable debt. Just because he died, does not absolve me of that debt.”

They ate in silence for a while. There were so many questions running around inside Killian’s head, but he dared not ask anything. This man was wealthy, putting him in a much higher caste than Killian. The fact that Killian was now wearing clothes he only dreamt about. Had a bath and a haircut. Had a mystic potion to kill his lice, and never once did the young woman blink as she handed over coin after coin to pay for what he was getting. Then she brought him to the most expensive inn in the town and sat him down across from Mablin. The man looked him over once, then nodded to the woman who left without another word.

“I am a merchant, like your father was. I know that your mother is actively looking for a buyer for you. I have paid the price asked for but will not make you a slave.” Killian sighed in relief. He did not want to be a slave.

“My debt to your father has been satisfied. I see two choices before you. You may strike out on your own, although at the equivalent of 8, I do not see that working well for you. Or you may join my caravan where I will pay you to be a helper. If you do well enough, we may even teach you a trade. That is if you are not trainable. I assume you have not been tested yet?” Killian just shook his head no. “Well, we will rectify that in the morning. At which point I will require an answer, as we are leaving at the noon bells.”

Mablin finished his meal and put his fork down. “Finish your meal young one, there is a room here for you for the evening. I will return in the morning for the morning meal, then we will get you tested. After that, your choices are clear.” He then simply turned and walked away.

➿➿➿➿➿

“Hello there my friend.” Killian jumped to his feet, spun, and dropped to a fighting stance. The strange Drow stepped back with his hands raised, but grinning. “Easy there.”

Killian stood up and blushed from embarrassment. “Sorry.” He said simply, then his eyes went wide as he saw the three beings behind the dark-skinned, white-haired, Drow Elf.

“It is I who should apologize for startling you,” Syth said with a small and simple bow. “I was wondering if you would speak with me.”

“Uh sure, I’s guess.” Syth openly cringed at hearing the words smashed together. Killian quickly realized that these kids spoke like his ‘Uncle Mablin’ did. “Of course, you may,” Killian said slowly, but the resulting smile was reward enough. “What may I do for you?” He then asked.

“I was hoping you could explain everyone's rather... hostile attitude towards me.”

“Oh boy…” A worried Killian responded softly. While he could not think of a reason for the Drow not knowing, it was obvious that he did not. With what he had done for Killian, a debt was owed, even if not asked for. One thing his uncle was strict on was debts.

➿➿➿➿➿

When Lew woke up, he didn’t know where he was, or why he was there. He tried to move, and he was stiff all over. That’s when it came back to him. He was traveling with a family to Norntown, a mining town near Silverton, which was his final destination. The family offered him food and a place to stay if he helped at their farm. He was not in a hurry, so he accepted their hospitality and stayed with the human family for almost 2 moons before they decided to take their excess to Norntown to sell and get some things for the farm.

They were close to the main road when they were attacked. He was walking next to the wagon while the man drove, and the woman and little girl rode in the wagon. His pet, a Panther named Nimbi, was walking just a few feet away. Nimbi alerted on something, just as he heard the charging of hooves. He had just drawn his sword only to be struck by a monster. The last thing he remembered was hitting the ground, and then the wagon tipping on top of him. He was sure he felt his hips crack under the weight and knew his tail was broken. He felt the darkness start to take him. He thought he was dying.

Then the darkness faded away. He tried to move his legs and was surprised that he could. He was stiff, but there was no pain. He was on his side, and when he moved his tail, it also was just stiff. He looked around and saw he was in a nice tent. He listened and heard the noises of people moving outside, and the normal sounds of a camp. Someone must have rescued him.

He looked around the tent and saw his armor was there, as were some of his weapons. However, his bow was in pieces and his quiver was empty. His sword was missing, but he saw his three daggers. His book was there as well. That was a great relief. Seeing he was wearing his loincloth, he stood up. It took a few minutes, and some stretches before he felt willing to see what was waiting for him outside. The fact that they had left his daggers and book with him meant that they were friendly… he hoped.

He took a deep breath before he pushed the flap aside and exited the tent. “Eh!” He heard from a little way away. When he looked, he saw a young Dwarf walking his way. He got close and put a hand out. “Welcome back to the land of the conscious!”

“Thank you…” Lew said softly as he took the dwarf’s hand. “Where… where am I? What happened?”

“Hold on.” The dwarf said, then turned. “Olpha!” he called out. “The Pantherling woke.”

“Lew,” Lew said when the dwarf turned back. He looked confused so Lew helped him out. “My name is Lew.”

“OH!” He laughed boisterously. “I am Malachi.”

Any other conversation ended when a huge Illorc rounded the tent with a healthman’s bag. Lew took an involuntary step backwards, not just because of her size, but he knew that Illorcs were notoriously ill-tempered, and not really friendly with anyone else. Seeing her smile was definitely not something he expected to see. “It is good to see you up and about.” She said as she set the healthman bag down and stuck out her hand. “I am Olpha.” She simply said.

Hesitantly, he took her hand, which engulfed his. “Please, call me Lew.”

“As you wish. Are you in any pain? I was not sure if the dragon’s death would fully heal all your injuries.”

“D…d…ra gon?” Lew stuttered out.

“Yes,” Malachi said, then grabbed his arm and pulled him to the other side of the tent that was facing the road. There on the road was the carcass of the Green.

“How… who killed it?” Lew said his eyes transfixed on the Green.

“We tracked the bandit group and found it assaulting this caravan. I guess when we joined in, the Green decided to join the fight. Unfortunately for him.” Malachi said with a calm smile.

“You… you killed a dragon?” Lew asked in complete disbelief.

“We had the help of the Caravan members, at least those that were still alive, but… yes we did,” Malachi said, his voice still just as calm as his smile.

“It was only a young True,” Olpha said, causing Lew to spin on her, his mouth opening and closing.

“You may wish to close your mouth before a Harpy takes up residence,” Olpha said with a grin as she took his arm and pulled him over to the campfire. “How about we sit here where the Dragon is not visible.”

Lew was in the middle of sitting when he froze. His eyes were locked on Olpha, not her face or even her chest. His eyes were locked on her stomach. He gulped a bit before he started breathing again. He finished sitting and then found his voice, weak as it may be. “Are… are you wearing… Dragon Scale armor?”

Olpha looked confused for a moment before looking down at her armor. “Yes…” She drew out, obviously not sure why he was acting this way. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” He rushed out quickly, thinking to himself if she was powerful enough to be part of killing a green and willing to wear the hide and scales of another, a red he guessed based on the coloring, then she was not someone he wanted to have angry with him. “No, not at all. I was just surprised. Ummm… May I ask, who are you?”

➿➿➿➿➿

"Pace?" Mablin started. "You had better have a…"

"I does sir… Promise!" The Dwarf said quickly.

"Okay…" Mablin replied as he sat back in his chair. Pace tugged on his beard for a few moments before he spoke.

"Does ya 'member dat one time in Junsac when we sees that leather armor dat was super expensive?"

"Yes…" Mablin began, his irritation starting to rise thinking he knew where this was going. "It was made of Dragonhide. I have already thought of that, and I MAY just be able to get us some leather…"

"No sir… dat not what I mean. Dem kids… da new ones. Most all dem be wearing it. Dragonhide and scale. Me's got a close look at da Darkies. It be top quality. Bedder den me's ever seen before."

Mablin and Gradon looked at each other, then back to Pace. "You are sure," Gradon said, more of a statement than a question since he knew the Dwarf would not have said anything if he wasn't sure.

Pace nodded then gulped and spoke again. "As I was com'mon 'ere, I stopped by dere camp. Da tents be made of some leather I ain't never seen 'fore, and the quality… 'gain bedder den I ever see. I tried ta punch a hole in it, near the bottom." He quickly drew a short thin stiletto and tossed it on the table between the two men. Mablin picked it up and examined the very bent tip. He handed it to Gradon who also looked at it, and shook his head.

Mablin turned his chair slightly so he could kick his legs out from under the table and stretch out. He closed his eyes and Gradon knew the man was thinking. This was something he did often, and everyone in the caravan knew what it meant. Pace quickly backed out of the tent without another word, and Gradon simply waited.

After almost a quarter turn of the sandglass, Mablin blew out a deep breath, opened his eyes, and turned to look at Gradon, who was patiently waiting. "As soon as we can, we need to start skinning the Dragon. It might be cold out, but it will still spoil quickly, so we need to start as soon as possible.

“Tell Livena to cut out the best dragon steaks she can for dinner tonight. Then I want you to ask our Elvin, or maybe Alphar, friend if he or any of his friends would care to join us for dinner, as a way to thank them for their help. Hopefully, it may be a way to figure out some more about who in the hells they are."

Gradon waited a second to see if Mablin had any more to say, and when he didn't, he jumped to his feet and walked quickly out of the tent.

➿➿➿➿➿

Syth could tell the boy was struggling with what to say, or how to say it. So while he was intensely curious as to why everyone hated him, he took pity on the boy. "First, I came this way to offer the assistance of these young ones to those trying to fix the wagons. I believe we should see to that before our talk. Does that meet with your approval?"

"Uhhh, yeah, sure," Killian said, realizing that this Drow before him spoke even more properly than his uncle, something he did not think was possible. Yet everything he had ever learned told him that Drow were little more than monsters and with the same intelligence.

Syth meanwhile glanced around for a second, watching the drivers and guards working on repairing the shoddily made wagons. He grunted to himself before he started to walk towards the one wagon with the broken axle. He saw that three of the men were struggling to lift a side so the axle could be taken off. "Excuse me, good sir," Syth said with a smile.

The man turned around and immediately got a sneer on his face. "What'cha want Darkie?" He spat out.

Even though he was expecting a negative reaction, Syth was still a bit taken aback by the vitriol in the man's voice. He hid it well though and spoke with an even tone, almost friendly. "I noticed that you and your fine workers are struggling a bit, so I thought I would offer the assistance of these two young Rhinolings."

The man looked past Syth at the five-foot-tall female, and six-foot-tall male and grunted. "Dem look big 'nough." He thought for another moment, then grunted and waved them forward.

Syth turned and addressed the two kids. "I expect that you will do as this man asks. I will be watching."

The older one nodded quickly, then moved around Syth, grabbed the side of the wagon, and lifted. The other men holding it up quickly stepped back in shock. The dwarf that was on the ground, next to the wagon and working on the axle grunted in surprise, then looked at Syth. "How long can he hold it up?"

Syth looked to the boy, "You may answer him."

"Me's can hold dis up long as ya want. It ain't heavy none." He said at the same time that the girl lifted up the other side, taking all the weight off the front axle and broken wheel.

"Well damn… This'll make it go quicker." The dwarf said with another grunt then went back to work no longer hindered by any weight on the axle he was working on. The two men and dwarf that were helping shrugged and wandered off, except the Dwarf who looked at Syth strangely for a few moments, but then scurried off himself.

"Why don't we move out of their way?" Syth said as he pointed to a fallen log a short way away. They made their way to the log and sat down, Killian having to adjust the sword on his side, not something he was used to yet.

Syth let the boy order his thoughts in silence and it was close to three full minutes before Killian spoke. "Please know, I have read about the Drow's betrayal, and the purge that happened afterward, but since this was around seven thousand years ago, what is known is not perfect."

"Did you say seven THOUSAND years?" Syth asked quietly but emphatically.

"Yes," Killian responded, working hard to remember the proper way to speak. "It was the end of the Elf/Dwarf wars, and ended with the Alphar and Garm withdrawing from the mortal realms."

"Wait… what?" Syth asked completely lost. "Please, start at the beginning."

"Right, sorry," Killian responded then took a deep breath to make his mind quiet down and focus on one topic. "So, during the Mythling wars, and then the Dragon wars, Under River was a huge help to many cities that found themselves behind enemy lines." Syth desperately wanted to interrupt and ask questions but kept his mouth shut. "However, in what has become known as the 'Great Betrayal', the Drow attacked one of the greatest Garm fortresses, known as the Iron Fortress." Syth felt like he'd been hit in the gut by a dragon's tail. "Not only did they kill everyone inside, they tied most of the adults to stakes outside and forced them to watch as they made the children jump from the top of the fortress. The Drow then killed the adults that had just watched their children die." Killian could tell by the tears that were falling and the absolutely horrified look on the Drow's face, that he had never heard this before, which made no sense. "Since then, the Drow have been hated by everyone. The Alphar and Garm joined forces and, from what I have read, attacked and destroyed all above-ground settlements of the Drow. They were not able to destroy Under River but were able to seal it off.

“I have not seen many Drow in my life, but the ones I have seen were all slaves, and were all treated very poorly by not only their master but also by anyone that saw them.”

Killian saw that the tears were still falling. "I truly do not understand how you do not know this, but I can tell by your reaction you knew nothing about this." Syth numbly shook his head. "I am sorry to have been the one to tell you then."

"It is fine." Syth croaked out. "One can not be upset about learning the truth, even if it is something you find impossible to believe." Syth turned his head and looked at Killian, never once trying to wipe his eyes. "I thank you for this information." He sighed as he stood. "May I ask one other favor?" Killian simply nodded. "Would you please let the wagon master know that he can continue the use of the young till I get back?”

"Yes! Of course!" Killian said, rising to his feet. "Please, take all the time you need." Syth numbly nodded in thanks, then set off for their little camp.

➿➿➿➿➿

Gradon spotted two of the kids that were causing quite the stir, as they watched the Dragon being skinned. He sighed, he very much did not like dealing with royalty. The few times Mablin had to deal with one, it was usually some low royal who liked to be treated as though they were a god. So far, in the very quick interaction he had with these kids, they did not fit that model, but he wasn't ready to let his guard down any time soon.

He took a deep breath, straightened his armor, and marched forward. "Prince Thane?"

"Yes?" Thane said as he turned around with a smile on his face, Gradon hesitated for a moment, then bowed a rather awkward bow. Thane fought hard but kept his laughter inside. He waited a very short time before he spoke. "Thank you for your recognition of my title, but please, until you get better training in how to do a proper bow, I do not think it appropriate for us to expect something of you, to which you are so clearly unaccustomed." Lucas raised an eyebrow. Thane must have been in a really good mood to let the bow last such a short time… even if it was one of the worst that Lucas had ever seen.

"Thank you, Prince Thane," Gradon said as he stood back up. "Sir Mablin would like to invite you and anyone else you wish, to dine with us this evening."

"Of course. I am sure it would be my honor. Can I assume this is why I saw a young lady come out a short while ago, and take the King's Portion as soon as it was revealed beneath the skin?"

"You are indeed correct, Prince Thane. That will be served this evening as well as the best our meager caravan has to offer." Gradon said with a grin.

"How delightful!" Thane said with a clap of his hands. "I look forward to it." Thane dropped his hands, then looked at Lucas, and turned his attention back to Gradon. "Do you know if Caravan Master Mablin will allow the young sorcerer to join us? Many of us are eager to get to know him better. His actions against the dragon must surely entitle him to partake in the King's Portion."

Gradon thought quickly but grinned. "Of course, he was invited. Sir Mablin has adopted him as if the boy were his own. No expense is spared in his training."

"Really!" Lucas said with a grin. "I too am a sorcerer. I would certainly like to speak with him, and perhaps compare notes."

"Of course," Gradon said he had finally focused on Lucas, more specifically his hand, and saw that he too wore a signet ring. "I will make sure he is aware." Gradon bowed quickly while backing off, eager to be away from royalty like this, even if they were just kids.

➿➿➿➿➿

"I am surprised you were not able to find anything better," Malachi said to Lew after the Pantherling came back into the little camp with some equipment he scavenged off the dead.

"Better?" Lew said as he looked at the short sword he found. "It's Elvin Steel! It's better than what I had."

"Really?" Malachi said softly.

"Yes. However, I just wish I had found a usable bow. I much prefer that."

"Well…" Malachi started before they heard Syth's voice.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, barely giving Lew a glance. "Xavier!" He called out. "Garnet!"

"Syth?" Thane asked as he and Lucas walked back into the camp.

"What the…'' Olpha groused as she walked around the corner, a bandaged Xavier hot on her heels, Garnet behind him, his hand on his sword, looking for trouble.

"We have an issue, well a couple of them." Syth started, his agitation easy for all to see.

"Okay," Xavier said as he walked over to the campfire ring that someone had made. "Take a few minutes and calm yourself." He sat down and looked at Lew after making sure his translation stone was active. "You must be Lew." He said with a smile as he motioned for the Pantherling to sit. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Lew took the offered seat while the rest, save for Syth, also sat. Syth was slowly walking around the campfire ring, head down, deep in thought. "While I do not know what has irritated my friend, I can tell by how he is acting that something is affecting him deeply," Xavier spoke, addressing his remarks to Lew. "This presents a possible problem. I ask that you take no offense, but I am certain that when Syth figures out how to present what he has on his mind, it will touch on topics that we may not wish outsiders to learn."

"I completely understand," Lew said as he made to stand. "I will happily go for a walk for a while."

"Please wait," Xavier said, his voice soft and friendly. Lew sat back down as Xavier looked at Malachi. "You have spent the most time with him, do you find him trustworthy?"

"Trustworthy?" Malachi said with a snicker. "He is a Pantherling. Other than needing to speak more properly, he seems to be like the rest I have met."

"I thought that would be the case," Xavier said with a warm smile. "Lew, May I ask that you tell us about yourself, and how you came to be here?"

Lew nodded, then took a moment to consider what to say. What he did not know was that Xavier was softly 'tasting' his thoughts, looking for falsehoods. "Well. My clan hails from just below the Silver Spine Mountains to the west of here. I am just shy of reaching the equivalent age of twenty-four. I am a Secondary Step 4 Druid, with my subfield being a Ruinseeker."

He saw that Malachi was about to speak up, but Xavier raised a hand to stop him. After a few silent moments, it was clear they were waiting for him to continue. However, he was fixated on something he saw when Xavier raised his hand. It took barely a moment to confirm it. He started to look at the others, not their faces, but their hands. On each and every hand was a signet ring. He could not see them well enough to see if he recognized any of them, but anyone who was old enough to understand what a signet ring meant, knew how to spot one.

Before anyone could say anything, he was on the ground, on his knees, forehead pressed into the grass below him. "Please, your highnesses, I did not know…" he thanked all the gods that he had not said what he wanted to when the Drow walked into the camp, because even he, somehow, wore a Signet. Even if his was not real, the rest were obviously friendly with the Drow, which meant he would be as well. Very friendly.

Xavier let out a breath he had not realized he was holding and relaxed, as his mind-master abilities were disrupted. He had what he needed though. "Please, Lew. Rise and re-take your seat." Knowing better than to refuse a royal order, Lew did as he was told, but sat up straight keeping his eyes low.

"For now we would ask that you keep our royal heritage to yourself, and act like you did before you knew. I know that will be difficult, especially for one who comes from such a noble race as the Pantherlings, but I must ask. We are all children as you know." Xavier waited and watched as Lew slowly let his eyes rise and gauge the reactions of all of the children sitting around the fire circle.

Finally, he sighed, the internal war still waging, but for now, he knew he must follow what Xavier asked. As soon as he relaxed, Xavier smiled. "Thank you. Now, please continue."

He gulped but forged on as best as he could. "I am an adventure seeker mostly. I have no real destination or quest in mind, I simply wish to travel and see what I can see. I hold no allegiance to any land or king here."

"Except the Silvers I imagine," Xavier said, causing Lew's head to snap around to face him. "Relax my friend, we are well aware of the Pantherlings' debt to the Silvers. Your race's secret is safe with us."

"How?" Lew asked, his voice flush with astonishment.

"Let me ask you a different question," Xavier asked. "If you were to give us your word, on your honor, would you swear not to reveal our secrets?"

"I… I could not give my word." Lew said, completely flustered.

"And if I amended my question to excluding your Silver Allies, and your Clan Elders?" Xavier asked, Lew's eyes getting even bigger.

"With… With those stipulations… I could keep my word." Lew stammered in response.

"Good. Then I would ask for your word, but I believe this should be more of a trade than just a commitment from you." Xavier looked over to Syth as the agitated teen finally sat down. "However, it looks as if we will have to pick this conversation up later. Syth?"

"I am sorry for my agitation. However, I have found the reason why the Drow are hated." Syth began.

Lew, even though he was petrified, blurted out. "How could you not?!" He stammered to a stop and then tried to apologize, though no coherent words came out. Xavier finally had to hold up his hand to stop the Pantherling.

"Please." Xavier began. "I do not know where this conversation is going, or if it will explain everything, but I ask that you feel free to join the conversation if you feel you have anything you can add. I personally guarantee that, no matter what you say, we will not take offense." Xavier waited till he saw Lew take a deep breath and then nod before he motioned Syth to continue.

"From what Killian told me, it all started about seven thousand years ago…" He intended to let his voice trail off, knowing someone would interject, but he did not expect to hear most of them do so. Olpha actually went to her feet in shock. It took Xavier standing to make them all stop, and Olpha to sit.

With a calm that completely warred with the emotions flowing through him, he looked at Lew. "You said your subfield was that of a Ruinseeker?" Lew nodded affirmatively. "Can you confirm what Syth was told?"

"What? About the hatred of the Drow going back seven thousand years?" Lew asked, still baffled that they did not know this… EVERYONE knew this.

"Yes." Xavier simply replied as he sat back down.

"Yes," Lew said with a nod. "It was near the end of the war between the Elves and Dwarfs."

"Perhaps then, it may be best for you to explain to us the history as you know it." Xavier's heart was racing, and his palms were sweaty. It was only the countless hours practicing under the masters in Seandra that allowed him to keep his cool demeanor.

"Uhhh. If you wish. How far back should I go?" Lew's eyes were wide, and his whiskers were twitching rapidly. He was beginning to wonder if he had not died when he was attacked, and was now some demon's plaything.

Xavier thought for a moment then selected an event that he knew would be remembered, at least he hoped it was. An event that happened only about 500 years ago, as far as he was concerned. "The ascension of Rovnar. Are you familiar with when that happened?"

Lew nodded as he thought back to the history books he read the last time he was in Junsac. "He ascended roughly eleven thousand years ago." Xavier closed his eyes in shock, a shock the rest of his friends felt as they sat there in stunned silence. The only noise was whatever creature the Bear Scorpions had found to snack on. The silence was short-lived though as one, then the rest of his friends, save Syth, started to protest.

Not wanting to alert the other camp that there was an issue, thus letting others know of what they learned, Xavier stood up quickly. "Keep your voices down!" He hissed out. "We can not let the others know there is anything wrong."

The others quickly quieted down and retook their seats. Garnet looked at Malachi. "This may be a good time to open one of the barrels that you brought."

"I think you are right." Malachi, then everyone else, save for Xavier and Lew, stood and went to retrieve their mugs. When they got back, Garnet handed Xavier his mug, and Lew was handed one by Malachi.

So entranced at the beauty, workmanship, and wealth that went into the creation of just their mugs, Lew almost spilled his ale when Malachi handed it to him. "Watch it there," Malachi said with a laugh as Lew almost dropped the jeweled mug. "This is the best ale from my homeland, and I made the mug myself. I know you do not have one, so you can keep it."

"No!" Lew exclaimed in terror. "It is too expensive!"

"It is only a mug," Olpha said with a chuckle. "And he is right. This is really some good ale."

"I just wish I could get drunk." Lucas groused with a half smile. "I think now would be a good time for that."

Lew was on the verge of overload and did the only thing he could think of. He took a sip of the ale. The explosion of fruit that struck his tongue almost took his breath away. He could not place some of the fruits but did not need to think to know this was simply the most delicious ale he had ever tasted. Judging by the quickness in which his head began to swim, it was probably the strongest as well. "By the name of Veldora herself! This is the best thing I have ever tasted!" This got a chuckle from everyone as he took another, albeit smaller sip. Unlike Lucas, he certainly did not want to get drunk at the moment.

"I am glad you like it," Malachi said as he took a healthy gulp, then belched, and put his drink down next to him.

Soon everyone had drunk some, and their eyes were fixed on Lew, so, after another small sip, he set his drink down and went back to the history lesson. "As I said, Rovnar ascended roughly eleven thousand years ago. Shortly after that, the Dragon Wars began. The reason why they started is not well known, but during the war, many dragons were killed, and at least the Red and the Green lost their homelands. The Browns lost so many that they exited the wars with no Greats left, and only one female True. To this day they are hunted for sport by the other Dragons, since they are a 'lesser' species of Dragon."

"Good," Xavier said softly but with enough venom in his voice to kill the rest of the Browns.

Lew filed the comment away but continued with his history lesson. "Roughly 8500 years ago, the war between the Alphar and the Garm began. Like most wars, the reason it began is not widely known. That led right into the Elf and Dwarf war, and ended with what you seem interested in, the Drow wars."

Lew took a moment to make sure he had everything in order before he spoke. "Near the end of the war, the Drow launched an unprovoked attack on the Dwarven Stronghold known as the Iron Fortress." Lew stopped short as everyone, except Syth gasped.

Xavier immediately held up a hand to stop any of them from commenting. "Continue," Xavier said curtly.

"Give them the details," Syth said, a haunted look in his eyes. Lew was beginning to actually believe these kids knew nothing of what he was explaining, as unfathomable as that may be.

"Details?" Lew asked in confusion but shrugged. "Okay, the details. It is said that the Drow mercilessly slaughtered every man, woman, and child in the fortress. It is said that they tied the parents to stakes outside at the base of the keep, and then pushed the children off the parapets, making the parents watch as the children died. Then the parents were killed by slitting their throats."

Looking around Lew was able to deduce a few details though his mind screamed it could not be. Both Malachi and Syth had their eyes closed, tears leaking out. The rest stared at him with open-mouthed astonishment. As unlikely as it seemed, Lew truly believed they did not know any of this. "Ummm…" Lew continued.

"After the Iron Fortress fell, the Alphar and Garm joined forces and hunted down all the Drow they could find. It is said that the retribution exacted on all above-ground Drow was… savage. Few Drow survived above ground, the rest were in Under River. Even the combined might of the two nations, along with the help of nearly all the other races was not enough to be able to invade and destroy Under River, so they merely locked it away. After that, the Alphar and the Garm withdrew from the mortal realm. It is thought that they have all died out by now.

“How is it that none of you appear to know this?” Lew finally asked.

Xavier looked at his friends, while he considered. He turned back to Lew, his mind made up. “Lew, you must keep this as much a secret as you can. We do not know this because, in our yesterday, Rovnar was only just ascending. He only had a few Priests.”