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Morning found me still asleep, but I soon stretched, smiling slightly as the sun shone down upon me. I sat up, running a hand through my hair as my green eyes lazily sought the pallet containing the elf. The elf was nowhere to be seen, however, but I was not concerned. He was probably out searching for breakfast. I got up, standing in the middle of our make-shift camp, looking around. I was not too keyed to the idea of having a cold breakfast, so I set myself the task of gathering some twigs and deadfall for a fire. I wandered the skirts of the camp, picking up bits of bracken, but felt slightly uneasy, as if I were being watched.I glanced over my shoulder, peering suspiciously into the forest on the opposite side of the camp, but I saw nothing. I'm starting to jump at shadows, I thought to myself. Yet, as I continued my task, I could not shake that eerie feeling. I knelt, intending to grab a rather large stick, when it struck. Leaping from the brush, it tackled me to the ground. I yelped and fell, surprised by the attack. It pinned me to the ground, and it was then that I noticed the laughing grey eyes.
"Gods above, Krolaun!" I said in relief, "You scared me witless!"
He chuckled warmly, "Sorry, Kat. I couldn't resist."
"Yeah," I murmured, "Well, resist this!"
Before he could react, I planted my feet on his stomach and tossed him gently over my head. I giggled, getting to my feet, crouching at the base of an old tree as I watched him. He laughed, and landed on his feet lightly, turning to face me. His grey eyes were filled with happiness, just as mine were. It was good to be happy.
"That was a dirty trick," he said.
"All's fair," I replied.
"Oh, yeah?" he rushed at me, and I yelped. I dove to oneside, forgetting the tree at my back. I heard him impact with the tree, and I peered around it in concern.
"Krol?"
Only silence greeted my ears.
"Krolaun?" I came back around the tree, slowly going to the elf, "Are you all right?"
When again, only silence greeted me, I became increasingly concerned. I knelt beside him and looked at him. Only when I saw the quirking of the corner of his mouth did I know that he was actually all right. I smiled slightly and leaned close, "Krolaun...?" I purred.
As I leaned close to him, I could feel something in the air, like the static before the storm. I tensed, watching him. I heard a growl and another body entered the clearing. It tackled the other elf, and they rolled away from me. Before me, there were now two grey-eyed elves, identical in form and stature.
The original elf drew a dagger, making a hasty slash at his rival, contacting a glancing blow on his opponent's chest. The newcomer did not utter a word, but they remained caught at a standstill. Unable to tell one elf from the other, I reached to the Amulet of Bast at my throat. However, it was unresponsive to my touch. Something is definitely wrong here.
I watched them both, attempting to glean some clue as to which was the real Krolaun. The original elf tossed the dagger away, drawing the shortsword from it's scabbard at his side. The newcomer followed in kind, but instead of a shortsword, he brought forth a two-handed elven battle-blade. He shifted his balance to accomodate for the new weapon, but he had enough time to turn to me. From within the confines of his cloak, he brings forth two pieces of wax, pressing them into my hand. He then turns his attention to the elven adversary across from him.
I held the wax, looking at it curiously. What in the name of Heaven is this for? I did not realize that I was about to find out.
Before the first elf can press an attack, I watched the newcomer backflip to a safe distance. He stood there a moment, but then he began to swing that strange sword in huge, deadly arcs. At first, I did not understand this new tactic. Krolaun had never been one for theatrics. However, soon, the strange design of the blade began to catch the wind, emitting a high-pitched wail. He swung the sword faster and with increasing force until the keening began to go beyond the range of human hearing, making it painful for my Tyberan ears. I yelped and realized what the wax was for. Hurridly, I stuck it into my ears, but the other elf was not so fortunate.
As the sound reached it's peak, the elf fell to the ground, clutching at his ears. The newcomer elf walked over, still swinging his sword, and kicked the first hard in the ribs. I could feel the air fill with static as the WildMagic surged up from the bowels of the earth, carrying with it the power to dispel all magics. The image of the first elf wavers as the glamorie is dissipated. In his place, lying upon the ground, is a young Tyberan.
I growled, stepping towards the Tyb. Krolaun stopped his swordplay and looked at me, "I've been following him for a day now. He thought his ropes could hold me," the elf spat in disgust, "Fool. But, I needed to catch him off-guard."
Purposefully, I drew the Dagger of Mystics from its sheath at my hip. I knelt close to the Tyberan. The blade of my dagger hovered only scant inches away from the soft flesh of his throat. My eyes narrowed to slits of green fire as I growled warningly, "Who sent you?"
He looked at me, his brown eyes pleading. Brown eyes? Tybs don't have brown eyes. That alone struck a chord in me. Those brown eyes wandered over to Krolaun as a sense of unease began filling me. Behind me, Krol raised the sword over his head...but without thinking, I kicked out with a leg, catching Krol with a low sweep. He fell over in surprise, "What the...?! Kat, are you crazy?"
I stood up, kicking both swords away from the both of them. I placed a booted foot on Krol's shoulder as I regarded them both coldly, "I've grown quite weary of playing games. One of you could be Krol, one of you could not be. Or, perhaps, neither of you are. I intend to find out."
Just as I spoke those words, both elves vanished. I stood there for a moment, thrown into momentary confusion. Yet, even as I stood, only one question still remained very clear in my mind. Where is Krolaun?
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© 1999 E. Angeli Mansfield
