Rolling Shadows - Chapter 15

That evening Hannah cooked them a meal. The family gathered around the large kitchen table and she placed two cooking pots on mats in the centre. She took the lid off of one of them and the small floated across the table.
“Beef curry, with turmeric rice,” she declared, “I hope its not too hot for you. Held back on the powder and such.”
“She made a really potent chili the other day,” Lee said, “my lips felt like they were on fire.”
“This isn't that hot,” Hannah said, as she served, “would you mind getting the naans? They just need taking from the oven.”
Lee got up to get the bread and the family sat down to eat. The conversation quickly turned to Joe, Lee and Jake's grandfather and Karen's mother; they had all been to the funeral but of course still missed him greatly.
“Sorry to be so philosophical,” John said, “but he died at a good age.”
“Well said,” Lee raised his glass. After taking a sip he said, “somehow I thought you would be one of those people who wanted to die on your feat.”
“I plan to live forever.”
Lee smiled placing his glass down on the table, “sounds good. I imagine it might get a little dull after the first million years or so.”
“An infinite universe has infinite possibilities,” John said. He turned to Hannah, “this really is excellent. How was it cooked?”
“To my shame the rice is from the microwave,” Hannah said, “but the curry was slow cooked, its why the beef is so tender.”
“Amazing how much of a difference that can make,” Lee said, “we've been having a lot of slow cooked dinners recently.”

As Jake and his family finished their dinner and adjourned to the living room Stacy arrived at the pub. As she had expected she was the first to arrive but as it was a nice evening she sat on the wall outside the pub to wait for them. About five minutes later she saw a couple crossing the road, they were holding hands. She smiled and waved at them, recognising them as Mark and his girlfriend – know by her nickname – Twig.
“Hay Stay,” Mark said.
“Hi.”
“Exam go okay?”
“Think so.”
“You've probably been asked that a lot today,” Twig said.
“I have,” smiled Stacy, “maybe I should get a sign.”
“Sparkles and tinsel with 'Exam Went Well' in large friendly letters,” said Twig sounds good.
“Shall we go in?” Mark asked, “who are we waiting for?”
“Yeah,” said Stacy, “the others can find us.” She moved towards the door and held it open for the couple to enter.
“Who are we waiting for all together?” Mark asked as he placed his coat over the back of a chair and sat.
“T, Dillon, Chris, Sammie and Amy.”
“The whole group,” Twig smiled.
“Well the core group,” Mark said, “Amy might make it in time for closing.”
“She'll be here,” Stacy said, “she isn't that often late.”
“But she used to be,” said Twig.
“Yeah,” said Stacy, “past tense.”
“Why let the truth interrupt such things?”
Stacy smiled.
In time the others arrived and Amy wasn't the last but was the best dressed of the bunch. Stacy would not begrudge her that and for once she seemed not to have over done it. Stacy herself wore a simple red t-shirt and jeans.
“Can get anyone anything,” Twig asked.
“Pint of Brains,” Mark said.
“I know,” she smiled, “anyone else?”
“I'm fine at the moment,” Stacy said
“Not right now,” smiled Tina.
“Just a coke, thanks,” Dillon said.
The others, having just arrived, already had their drinks, they smiled in thanks of the offer.
“So, one coke, one bear and whatever I'm having,” Twig said.
“What some help with caring?”
“I can manage.”
The conversation went on like an erratic taxi, covering a variety of topics and sometimes seguing from one to another where there seemed to be no link. As Twig came back Sammie was just finishing a story about work.
“What was that?” Twig asked.
“Tell you later,” Mark said. He took his drink from her, passed Dillon his and went back over to the bar to collect her own.
“Where's everyone going on holiday then?” Dillon asked.
“Greece,” Sammie said, “really looking forward to it. Hot sun and sea.”
“You sound like an advert,” Stacy said.
“Yeah,” Sammie said, “I guess they sold it well.”
“Greece sounds good,” Dillon smiled, “beautiful beaches and...”
“Don't,” Sammie said, her tone was one of light heated warning.
“Don't what?”
“Imagine me in a bikini or something.”
“Okay.”
Sammie rolled her eyes, “anyone else?”
“Mark's parents are going to the Maldives tomorrow so we'll have his house to ourselves,” Twig arrived back taking her seat.
“Sounds excellent!” Dillon said in a suggestive tone.
“Do you think about anything else?” Sammie asked.
“Every so often,” Dillon said, “I'm going to Blackpool, me, Luke and Steve.”
“What about you Tina,” Mark asked, taking advantage of Dillon's pause.
“Tenby,” Tina smiled.
“You go their every year,” Dillon said, “why not go somewhere different?”
“We like it,” Tina said simply.


“This really isn't necessary,” Lee said.”
“Just giving you a hand,” Jake smiled taking another plate and wiping it over, “we had a wonderful meal I'm happy to help with the washing up.”
“You shouldn't have to, but the dishwasher is on the fritz,” he smiled, “so thank you for your help.”
“You're welcome.”
“Actually its good it gives us a chance to talk. Email is so impersonal.”
“There's always the telephone,” Jake said placing the plates on the shelf.
“You don't get many minutes when deployed,” Lee said, “and I'd want that time to talk with Hannah.”
Jake smiled, “you'd have more time if you didn't do the old 'you hang up', 'no you hang up' thing.'”
Lee laughed, “yes true. My work keeps me very busy. We don't do that so much now.”
Lee poured away the dirty water and helped Jake dry the last few items of crockery, once those were put away he declared.
“Why don't you go and sit down. I'll bring the tea.”
Jake dried his hands and headed into the living room while Lee filled the kettle. As he put it on its base he continued is ruminations of his trip to York

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Lee grabbed his coat, slipped on his shoes and headed into his grandparents kitchen. He sat on a chair and propped his foot on another while he tied his shoelaces.
“We have something for you,” Doris said.
Lee finished tying his second shoelace and pulled his chair closer to his grandmother, closed his eyes and held out his hands. He felt two small pieces of paper fall into them. Opening his eyes and looking down he saw what he had been given – forty pounds.
“Thank you very much!” he said most elated.
“Well like I said. 'We get little chance to spoil you!" his granddad beamed.
“Thank you again! Where are we going?”
“Along the ooze.”

After a short drive the car pulled up alongside a small grassy area. A little walk from there and they came to the ooze side itself. Lee's grandparents moved at a slow pace so Lee decided to run on ahead. Soon he was about one hundred meters from them. He slowed back down to a walking pace admiring the narrow-boats, when suddenly someone called to him.
“Lee West.”
Lee turned almost right round to see who had spoken. He then noticed a man standing at the end of one of the boats. He wasn't however completely convinced that he had just been addressed. He didn't know this man and he seemed to stand as though expecting something – as if he couldn't move without prior permission. The man was tall, clean shaven with short black hair and wore a blue suite with a waistcoat to match.
“Lee West?” the man said again this time with doubt.
“How do you know my name?” Lee asked, it was too late to pretend he wasn't Lee West. The man did not answer and Lee took a step forward. Lee noticed that on the right breast of the man's jacket was a badge, it had two sticks crossing over a green circle.
“Please come with me.”
Lee folded his arms in response to that. He hoped his facial expression communicated 'you can't be serious.' However he did not think that there was any harm in just talking to this man and, with arms still folded he asked the man his question again; he also asked what the man's name was.
“I am William McColl,” he said, “and I know your name from a survey you once completed.” From an inside jacket pocket he pulled a piece of paper. Clasping it between his hands he whispered something then threw the paper to Lee. Instead of carrying only a meter or two, as lee expected, the paper transformed in mid-air into a paper aeroplane. It came towards him and hovered just in front of Lee's face. He took and unfolded the paper. Reading over the information he had a vague memory of it, some sort of government survey that his form tutor had once given them.
“These were anonymous.”
“Not entirely,” William said, “wouldn't you like to know about what I just did? Throw it back.”
Lee half-heatedly threw the paper back towards the narrow-boat. It once again became a paper aeroplane and came back to William's hand.
“You still haven't answered my question.”
“All will be come clear.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Even now as Lee remembered he wondered why he had stepped onto that boat. Of course he was glad that he had. As had he listened to the more rationale part of his mind he never would never have met Hannah.

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 14

The train pulled into the station. It came to a full stop and the doors were unlocked. Most who stepped of rushed away, to catch a connecting train, or a taxi, or to meet someone. However as Jake MacNeill stepped onto the platform he moved to the side, out of the way of the passing throng. Jake had long hair and wore a black leather jacket over a military green t-shirt with black jeans. The station, to his eyes, looked as though it had a caretaker that took great care in his work. The flowers were neatly arranged in their red boxes and the platform seemed almost completely devoid of dirt, there was the occasional dark circle of chewing gum. There remained of course the smell of diesel which disturbed his nostrils. Soon his parents joined him on the platform.
His father, John was bald with a thin mustache. He was slightly shorter than his son and athletic in physique. He also disliked the smell of the diesel and pondered that he might have been able to make the trip by foot. This he might have done, taken an extra week off and at least attempted it. Jake's mother who followed his father would have talked him out of it. His mother, Karen, was shorter still, she was a little plump, or cuddly as Jake told her, with black hair and wore a purple top with a frilled neck and black trousers.
The family headed out of the station into the car park. They began looking for Jake's cousin's car. He wasn't here yet.
“The train was a little early,” Jake said, by way of an explanation.
“So there is a first time for everything!” John said, “trains can be early.”
“As we have a few minutes do you mind if I call...”
“Stacy,” his parents said in unison.
“Carry on,” Karen said.
“Thanks.”
Jake walked a little way away from his parents and pressed the speed dial on his phone. It only rang for a few moments before being picked up.
“Hi babes,” Stacy said, “have a good trip?”
“Just another trip on a train,” Jake said, “how did the exam go?”
“All right I think. Won't know until results day I guess.”
“Well I'm sure you did fine. Sorry I can't be there tonight.”
“That's okay. Your be here for the prom thought, that's the important thing.”
“Indeed. Wouldn't miss it. Have fun this evening though.”
“We will,” Stacy said, she sounded as though she were smiling.
“I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our conversation short,” Jake said, “looks like my cousin is here.”
“Okay. Love you. See you on prom night.”
“Love you, Bye.”
“Bye.”
Jake hung up the phone and put it back in the inside pocket of his coat. He headed back over to his parents where a small blue car had pulled up. The car's two occupants stepped out. The first was Jake's cousin Lee followed by his wife Hannah. Lee had short trim hair, a slim figure and was dressed, appropriately in a navy blue shirt and jeans and wore a smart jacket. His wife wore a flowery dress and had hair the colour of strawberries.
Jake and Lee communicated regularly by email, though it had been a while since they had seen each other in person.
“Still growing your hair?”
“Still keeping it short,” Jake returned.
“Its the regulations,” Lee said as he embraced his cousin, uncle and aunt in turn. He then helped them place their bags in the car and they set off.

As Lee drove Hannah briefly placed a hand on his shoulder. Lee turned his head to her and she smiled. He nodded to her as if some secret message had passed between them. Jake and his parents were barely aware of the exchange.
“Thought I might give you some information about what we're seeing here,” Lee said as they turned a corner, “then I realized, I know nothing. We'll be at the house soon. Not a lot happens here, but we have a castle and...”
“The pleasure of your company,” Karen said, when Lee was unforthcoming with the end of his sentence.
“Thanks,” Lee said. He hoped the distraction in his voice wasn't detectable. Hannah had no doubt heard it, but she was his wife. The reasons for it was clear. Just two months ago his grandfather, Joe, had died - he was ninety-three. Lee had been to the funeral but it had been a, literal, flying visit. He could not say he was sad precisely. After all his grandfather had lived to a grand old age, and died peacefully. Every now and then something reminded him of his grandfather. Something on the news, a documentary or any news to do with his career. He imagined Karen had smiler feelings, Joe had been her father. As Lee drove his mind when went back twelve years, a family holiday in York. The trip turned out to be far more interesting than he could have imagined.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Lee West woke with a start. For a moment he was slightly disorientated. Then as he looked at the bed - or rather lilo - he was on and saw a double bed, he remembered, he was staying with his grandparents in York. A smell began to waft into the room tickling his nose. Soon his ears pricked up as a sizzling sound followed. Bacon! he thought. Rising from the lilo he stood over his parent's bed.
“Granddad's making breakfast.”
“Smells good,” his mother, Mary, said drowsily, “go and get washed and dressed. We'll be up in a little while.”
Lee left the room, was washed and changed quickly then dashed down the stairs. His grandmother was crouched in the hall picking up the post. Lee wished her a good morning and turned past the stairs entering the kitchen-cum-dining room, this also connected to the living room. His grandfather was stood at the stove cracking the eggs into the pan.
“Five out of five,” he said.
“Five what?” Lee asked.
“You made me jump,” Joe said, “didn't see you their.”
“Sorry.”
“Its okay. Five eggs cracked into the frying pan without braking the yolks.”
“Well done.”
“I've had some days where I make the breakfast, then make a cake, and its the eggs for the cake that remain intact!”
“Before you whisk them?”
“Yes,” Joe smiled, “exactly. Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Lee returned.
“Would you be able to keep an eye of on the eggs? While I change into something a little more formal than a bath robe.”
“Sure.”
Lee kept an eye on the eggs, then, convinced that they would not be ready for a while, headed into the living room. He was distracted by a plaque on the mantelpiece. The words of some poem were engraved on it, he read with mild interest. Going over to the stove he checked the eggs, not quite done. Back to the mantelpiece and he inspected a picture that stood next to the plaque. It showed a man stood next to plane and the brass plate beneath read:

Wing Commander Joe Taylor
04/09/1951

“Great picture,” Lee said to himself.
“Thought you'd like that one,” Doris, his grandmother said, “where's Joe he's got eggs cooking here?”
“Gone to change,” Lee said, “I'm keeping an eye on them.” He crossed back to the stove and checked the eggs again and decided they were done.
“Hang on a moment,” Doris said, she grabbed some plates from the cupboard and set them out on the counter. Lee carefully placed an egg on each plate.”
“Its ready is it? Joe said retuning.
Joe dished out the remainder of the breakfast.
“Smells wonderful dad,” Mary said.
“It does indeed,” Robert added.
The family sat to a delicious breakfast of; bacon, eggs, hash browns, baked beans, black pudding and toast. It smelt marvelous. Lee was about to dig straight in, but he waited for his grandfather to pour the drinks and until everybody else was ready. A chorus of appreciation went round the room, as everyone ate their breakfast.
“Every grandfather needs the opportunity to spoil his grandson – and I don't see mine often enough, have to catch up on the spoiling your dad's parents get to do on a regular basis.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As the car pulled up to the house Lee supposed that the breakfast hadn't been that special. He had dabbled in cooking himself from time to time, living the cliché and manning the barbecue in the summer, nevertheless it had still been appreciated. He stepped out of the car, walked up to his front door and unlocked it.
“Make yourselves at home,” he told them, “Hannah and I will bring your stuff in.”
“That's not necessary,” John said, “we'll...”
“We can do it don't worry.”
John surrendered to the idea and entered the house with his son and wife. Lee returned to the car, he swung Jake's rucksack onto his back and took one of the wheeled cases while Hannah brought the other one.
“Let me show you where you'll be sleeping.”
“Thank you,” Karen said, following her nephew up the stairs. She attempted to take the case from him but he insisted.
“Are you going to let me do anything while I'm here?” she asked, “help with the washing up for instance.”
“No,” Lee said, “this will be yours and John's room. Come Jake, let me show you your room.”
Lee, with Jake in tow, crossed the landing into another room. Lee placed Jake's bag on the floor and apologised for the slight mess the room was in.
“Redecorating?”
“Yeah,” Lee said, “been doing this a while now. Well I say 'we' mostly Hannah of course but it should be ready soon. When the patter of tiny feet comes along.”
“Congratulations,” Jake said.
“We aren't pregnant yet,” Lee smiled, “soon.”
“So what would your child be to me?”
“I don't know to be honest,” Lee said, “after a point those definitions get a little convoluted. Lets have some tea.”

Lee headed down the stairs to the kitchen where Hannah was lent against the thick wooden table in the center of the room. Lee smiled hearing the sound of boiling water from the kettle.
“Great minds think alike,” he said, “I was just coming to do that.” Lee ran his hand through Hannah's hair and kissed her, “Have I told you how much I miss you whilst away?”
“You've mentioned that,” she smiled, “I miss you too. Maybe you should get a shore posting.”
“I have to go where I'm sent,” Lee said, “I have considered resigning, so I could be with you.”
“You can't do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Hannah said, “you've always wanted to captain your own ship. To have that responsibility. Your dream since you were twelve.”
“Dreams can sometimes change. I'm not saying that that isn't there any more but, you have to pick your battles. You can't be captain, see your family every day, play the...clarinet, paint a masterpiece and write a best-seller.”
“There must be someone who has done all those things.”
“I suppose,” Lee smiled weakly, “more and more I realise that being with my family is the most important thing. Maybe I'll buy a boat, be a captain of my own ship.”
“Whatever you decide I'll support,” Hannah said, “whatever makes you happy.”
“I love you,” he said kissing her. As he did so her hair changed to a grassy green, “cool, but you might want to keep that to a minimum while we have guests here.”
“I will,” she assured him, “just a couple more for the road.” The kettle had clicked off and Hannah levitated it and poured the boiling water into the awaiting tea pot. Lee added a jug of milk to the tray the old fashioned way. Hannah changed her hair colour back to red as they headed into the living room.

“I was just admiring the decoration in here,” Karen said, as they entered, she pointed to a piece of fabric hanging from the wall.
“Yes,” Hannah said, “Japanese calligraphy. We got them on holiday there a few years back.”
“What does it say?” Jake asked.
“That one is 'Sure Victory'” Hannah said, “roughly translated of course, “the other is 'Everlasting.'”
“There wonderful. Do you speak Japanese?”
“I guess you could say I dabble,” Hannah said, “not fluent thought.”
“Tea's ready,” Lee said.
As Lee poured the tea his mind went back once again to the breakfast with his grandparents. They had had a large green teapot. He remembered it well as his grandfather had trouble lifting the full pot. He hadn't drank tea at that time of his life and his eyes wondered back to his grandparent's living room. There were medals in a frame next to the picture of his grandfather and next to that another picture, black and white of a man in an army uniform. He looked proud in his hat and olive jacket. Lee inquired as to who it was.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“My brother,” his granddad said, “he died in the war. That picture was taken shortly before his death.”
“Shall we pull the conversation back to something unwar related,” Lee's grandmother said.
“I'm afraid I have some other news in that regard,” Robert said, “I heard from Jack the other day He's just been promoted!”
“Major West,” Lee said delighted to here the news, “has a nice ring to it.”
“You still aiming for Commander West?” his grandmother asked. She had decided to surrender to the conversation.
“Yes. Where's he being stationed?”
“Don't remember, some where in Europe.”
“Speaking of family news,” Lee's grandmother began, dipping some bacon in her yolk. “We heard from Karen the other day. She just wanted to let us know that they'll be bringing Jake up for a few days.”
“Oh right!” Lee's mum said, “we'll have to go and see them sometime, if I can get the time. Haven't seen Karen in a while.
“Yeah,” Lee said, “I'd like to see my cousin again. So what are we doing today.”
“We're going for a walk.”

As he left the bedroom Lee put his hands in to a gun shape, darting round the corner, as if defending his position from and unseen enemy. One day he might have to do this for real. In that moment he wondered, would he make it in his career? Would he one day command a ship in the Royal Navy. He'd looked up all the information he could find, practiced the navy fitness test – he felt ready.
“Nearly ready?” his grandfather asked, and then seeing what he was doing contained in a feigned 'RAF' accent, “come on its time to fly!”
“Yes sir!” he said enthused. His grandfather's stories of RAF service were the stuff of family legend as far as Lee was concerned. Joe had served for many years and archiving the rank of Air Commodore. They waited on the landing while the others got ready.
“I wish you every success,” Joe said, “may you make lieutenant-commander by the time you're thirty.”
“I hope to,” Lee smiled.
“Let me be clear though,” Joe continued in earnest, “a military is, by definition, used for war. Those who choose to server have to face the possibility that one day they may be required to kill. I've shot plans down. Yes you can say it was in defense of one's country. However those people you fight are mealy the the instrument of the country you fight. Fighting for ones country is an honorable vocation – don't give into hate because...”
“That leads to the dark side?”
“Exactly,” Joe smiled, “fight with honor. I will say however that any war represents a failure. It is never desirable. It is important that good people join the armed serves, fight with honor and focus on what they see – never jumping to conclusions,” Joe took a thoughtful pause.
“We're ready,” Doris said, heading down the stairs.
“Be right there,” Joe told her. Turning back to his grandson he said, “I visited Berlin a couple of months ago, and met a man who was a Major in the Luftwaffe in '41. He fought in the Battle of Britain, dropped bombs on British cities. We're good friends now. The point is that people do not make war, governments do, Thomas Hardy said it best:

“Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You’d treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The words of the poem hadn't meant much to Lee at that moment. As a teenage poetry was only experienced in a classroom. Now those worlds meant a great deal. They had been the ones on the plaque on his grandfather's mantelpiece. After his grandfather's death he had been given the plaque and placed it above his own fire place. Something had changed in him now, he wondered if the navy was still for him, he missed Hannah dearly whilst away. As he sat with his family and they talked he thought that he should remain here.

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 13

Stacy Tanner awoke before her alarm. This was a rare event, normally the alarm's snooze had to be pressed at least twice. She had never been late for school though. She was determined however that she would not get up until the alarm went off, those three of so minutes in bed would be worth it. She sighed as she considered the day's events, but soon it would all be over. In theory there might never be an exam again. No, that was just wishful thinking. University would have exams, but it was a nice thought. The one thing that was for sure was that this summer would be excellent. There couldn't possibly be any school work to do. Though given the tenacity of some of her teachers she wouldn't have been that surprised if they'd set homework anyway – or that a university professor would have pre-empted her arrival. She smiled at that thought and chuckled briefly.
“Come on you stupid alarm!” she said.
“You can get up without it,” her mother called from outside.
“Never!” she called laughingly.
The alarm clock beeped and, with a sigh, Stacy swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got to her feet. Her mother was folding the washing and placing it in the draws of her white dresser.
“Last exam,” her mother said.
“Yes,” Stacy said, “then freedom.”
“No,” her mum said, “then housework.”
Stacy raised her eyebrows.
“Only joking.”
“Well I will help of course. Need some free time.”
“Of course,” her mum said, “but becoming more independent is a good thing.”
“I agree,” Stacy said smilingly, “now I should go, change into something less comfortable.”
“You could go like that,” her mum said, “of course all the boys would fail.”
“Mother!” Stacy exclaimed.

Stacy returned to her room, folded her smiling monkey pyjamas and placed them on the bed. She combed her red red hair while standing in front of the mirror. Once she was satisfied she headed down the stairs for a quick breakfast before she began her revision.
“Probably for the best,” her mother said as Stacy entered the kitchen.
“What?” smiled Stacy as she took a box cereal from the cupboard.
“Better than you pyjamas.”
“I thought so.”
“Though still enough for the boys to fail.”
“I wearing jeans and a t-shirt!” Stacy said, “what's put you in such a strange mood?”
“Mother's prerogative.”
Stacy gave her mother a laughing smile as she took the milk from the fridge, “when is dad due back?”
“Later today. They're just tying up the last few loose ends.”
“He'll be home in time for my freedom,” Stacy placed the milk back in the fridge and headed into the front room. Sitting on the sofa, her breakfast on a tray, Stacy reached for the universal remote and switched on the television.
“What's on?” her mum asked, coming in with her toast.
“DVD?”
“Don't tempt me. Don't you want to do some revision?”
“Of course. But I've done lots and there is plenty of time for that.”
“Okay,” her mum smiled.

As the credits rolled Stacy returned her tray to the kitchen, placed her bowl in the dishwasher and decided to make a start – or rather a finish – her revision. She had been through these books so much she could hardly count. Of course a lot of the information would be completely irrelevant. She quickly found she couldn't just sit their and concentrate. So she took the page she was reading and walked the length of the house. The movement seemed to help it gave her a distraction, rather than just thinking about the exam.

Rupert O'Brien stepped off the number 24 bus as it arrived in the center of town. He told the driver thank you and headed away from the stop, in the opposite direction to the shoppers. He passed the large hotel who's residents were enjoying a hearty breakfast, served by trim and well presented waiters. Passing a bar he turned the corner to his office building. Outside, even at this early time, their were people smoking. He tried not to show his sensory or mental disapproval and thought that free will was somewhat overrated.
“Morning Doug,” he said to the security officer as he signed in.
“Morning,” Doug said, looking only briefly up from his newspaper. Rupert wondered if a security breach would be noticed, as Doug always seemed more interested in his paper than the security screens in front of him. Rupert moved over the the lifts and pressed the call button.
The lift opened on the fifth floor and Rupert entered his offices.
“Morning Branwen,” he smiled at the young woman behind the desk.
“Good morning Rupert,” she said.
“Have you received a call from a Mr Wood?”
“Not yet,” Branwen said, “I could call him, do you have his number?”
“Its all right. I'll make the call. You have the interview schedule for today?”
“Yes.” She searched through the papers on the desk and handed him a sheet.
“Thanks,” he headed into his office, just before he closed the door he said, “Facebook is okay, just remember the job.”
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
Rupert placed his umbrella on the stand in his office and draped his jacket over the back of his chair. He took a look at the interview schedule that had been drawn up, the first person was due to arrive in just a few minutes.
Sure enough five minutes later Branwen knocked at the door, “your first applicant is here.”
“Send them in.” Branwen moved aside to admit a young man.
“I'm Rupert O'Brien,” Rupert said, reaching to shake the man's hand.
“Jeffrey Wingfield,” he said.
Rupert smiled and sat, indicating of Jeffrey to do the same, “that's what it says here,” he looked at the sheet Branwen had given him, “so right person, right place, right time. This is a good beginning. I'll begin by telling you a little bit about us as a company.”

As lunch time came around Stacy stopped her revision. With the exam looming ever closer she knew that nothing more was going to sink in. She had been told, on more than one occasion, that a last minute read through was often pointless. She had never found this to be the case. In fact when she sat her GCSEs she had been revising a mathematical formula in those last minutes, repeating it in her head over and over and wrote it down as soon as the invigilator started the exam. Trying to keep calm she ate her lunch, a tuna sandwich, in slow bites.
Though she still had some time before the exam she decide to leave sooner rather than hanging around until the time she absolutely had to leave. Once walking she became slightly less nervous and waved to her mother as she left the street.

Donald Tanner sighed. The meeting was already running long and the computer had crashed. It had crashed right in the middle of a totally uninteresting presentation but lunch would not happen until the meeting was finished. At the head of the table the man who had been giving the presentation apologized to the group and started to look intently at the offending laptop.
“So much for the efficiency of the system,” a woman next to Donald lent in to whisper to him.
“Indeed,” Donald said, reading her name tag, Natalie, it said.
“Of course its not their software that's at fault.”
“Probably not,” Natalie said, “you know the more I work with computers the more I start to appreciate pen and paper.”
“I know what you mean. I'm working my way back to quills and ink.”
Natalie laughed with a nod. There were now two people stood by the computer. The first, who's computer it was, looked about ready to throw it out the window. “The work we could be doing if we weren't here.” Natalie said.
“Tell me about it,” Donald said, “I remember school assemblies. Sometimes we'd be called in, on short notice, something bad had happened. Then the teacher giving the assembly would say, in no uncertain terms, 'Put your energies in to revising!'”
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Natalie, “had the same thing at my school. I remember thinking. I would be revising if I wasn't here!”
“Excuse me,” Donald said, standing up. He looked to the two men by the computer, “do you mind if I just made a quick phone call.”
“Go ahead,” James, who's computer it was said, “you could probably dictate Hamlet in the time this is taking.”
Leaving the office Donald took his phone from his pocket and pressed the third speed dial. The phone only rang for a few moments before a small voice answered, “hi dad.”
“How you doing?”
“Okay. Got some revision done this morning. I think I'll do okay.”
“I'm sure you will. We are still going out for that meal no matter what.”
“Sounds great.”
“Good luck kiddo.”
“Thanks dad.”
“Bye.”
“Bye,” Donald hung and came back in. The computer was still not behaving. “Shall I give my presentation while we wait.”
“Good idea,” James said.
Donald came to the front of the room, brushed down his suite and stood at the head of the table. He had with him a folder from which he took several sheets of paper. The small talk that had begun with the computer failure died down and soon Donald had the attention of those assembled before him.
“Thank you,” he began, “as the computer has kindly illustrated, computers are not always the answer. Since technology became a part of every day life we have incorporated them so much that it is difficult to imagine that once there were no computers. Some people of course manage perfectly well without them. Which might be difficult for those in our profession to get to grips with. Imagine for instance the staff at Morrisons having to add everything up in their heads. Nevertheless managing without computers is something that we should consider. Not simply as a backup but that a pen and paper may be more appropriate to the job. The other day I saw a Dickens adaptation on DVD. In that there was a law firm, they had huge stacks of paper work, packed to the ceiling. Can you imagine trying to run such a firm without a computer? Well before someone cries, 'Get to the point' allow me too...”

Stacy arrived outside the school gym, where the exam would be held. Some people, she was surprised to see, were completely relaxed about the whole thing. The teacher came to the door and quickly told them the rules of an exam room. This was completely redundant. This was the last exam on the last day of exams. Everyone had been sitting exams over the previous fortnight and knew the drill. Nevertheless it was probable that some would try to sneak a note into the room. Stacy ensured her mobile was off, took her pens from her bag and left it with her coat at the back of the room.
The students were sat in rows on the single seater desks. The ones that only came out for exams, the ones that were scrolled in graffiti. Stacy read a couple of them: 'good luck dude', 'I am so going to fail', 'maths sucks' their were also rude comments and the occupational someone'4'someone else. Meanwhile the register was being called.
“Here,” the girl behind Stacy called.
“Yes sir,” Stacy said confirming her presence.
Once the register was called the teacher reminded them of the importance of silence while he passed out the examination papers. Once everyone had theirs they were told to put their names and student numbers on the paper. The teacher checked his watch and the exam had begun.

“A very interesting tour,” Jeffrey Wingfield said as he left the store cupboard.
“Most of our work of course happens in the field,” Rupert said, “do you think you'd be interested?”
“Of course,” Jeffrey said, “it is most exciting. I'm still a little fuzzy on how you came up with my name.”
“Ah,” Rupert said, closing the cupboard door, “we have our ways. Would you like to start next Monday?”
“That would be fantastic,” Jeffrey said, hoping he didn't sound too enthusiastic.

Mr Vaughan walked down the line of desks his head moving from side-to-side like a security camera. Stacy noticed his long hooked noise and stern expression. He had never been one of her teachers but was a teacher with something of a reputation within the school. The type of teacher that could control any class effortlessly. Mr Vaughan came to the front of the gym, checked his watch and said, “ten minutes remaining.” His voice was calm as if he didn't know the panic that those words would instill for many in the room.
Stacy felt only a little rushed. Examination rooms seemed to have a strange effect on clocks. To some it was as if the seconds were extended to minutes – and it still not be enough time. To others it seemed to tick round faster than usual. Time was not so much on Stacy's mind as having lost her train of thought. She attempted to squeeze the last pieces of information from her brain. The paper seemed to be staring at her, there was something more to write, she was sure. It was only that she couldn't bring the thoughts to the forefront of her mind, to express them on the paper. Thinking of loosing her train of thought hadn't helped either. Images of platforms, trains and rushing landscapes filled her mind. It wasn't surprising though that she had this preoccupation. Only yesterday her boyfriend had taken a train to visit his cousin in Carlisle.
“No,” she told herself in a forceful whisper, “you can do this!” She had another flash of inspiration and wrote another addendum to her essay.
“One minute to go,” Mr Vaughan said.
Madly the room's population scribbled. People read their pages. Flipping through them. Checking every morsel of information. Some were ready, counting down in their heads. Then Mr Vaughan announced, “put you pens down and wait till all exam papers have been collect before talking.”
As the last paper was collected everyone, even the teachers, seemed to sigh. It was as if the room bulged with the extra air. Talking started at once.
“I think it went okay,” Stacy said, turning to the girl behind her, “You?”
“Okay,” the girl said offhandedly. Her name was Eleanor Taggart, by virtue of the alphabet they were seated together. There was another scrapping of chairs as another row was dismissed. Stacy waited impatiently for her row to be dismissed. Mr Vaughan nodded his head to their row and they scrapped their chairs, grabbed their bags and left the room.
“Fantastic!” she said aloud as soon as she stepped outside. She had barely walked ten meters before she jumped.
“How'd it go.”
She recognized the voice instantly, it belonged to Tina Hilton, who had been waiting just outside the school gates. Tina had swarthy skin and curly black hair that hung over her shoulders, she had a beautiful smile.
“Fine,” Stacy said, “just fine,” Stacy felt like leaping in the air.

The school was on a road with a group of shops. Stacy and Tina walked along past the shops heading to the café. They went through to the back and sat on a table for two. Perusing the menu they ordered, Stacy a bacon sandwich and Tina a cheese and pickle baguette.
“So,” Stacy said, “had a good day?”
“Yes,” Tina said, “got up late, read, played on my sister's wii then meandered to the village,” as she said 'meandered' she mimicked a slow walking motion with her index and middle finger.
“You're really enjoying having finished before me aren't you?”
“Hell yes,” Tina smiled, “I'm really looking forward to this evening as well.”
“Sorry the rest of us kept you waiting.”
“Well I thought about arranging a get together the weekend after my last exam, it seemed a little churlish to celebrate something that was only for me. Tonight will be fun though. Sorry it means that Jake can't make it.”
“That's okay,” Stacy said, “its almost impossible to come up with a time when everyone is available.”
“True.” Tina said, “thank you.” The server arrived and placed their drinks in front of them.
“You're welcome,” the server simply smiled, actually she curled her lips.
“By the way,” Stacy asked, “how are things going with the job search?”
“Not really trying yet. Mum says it would be a good idea to have a proper holiday first.”
“You do seem to have a problem with relaxation.”
“Suppose I do.”

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 12

Tha'lif was wide eyed and walked smilingly on. She felt like a child who had been told that they where too young to ride a staff – so had studied extensively and now she was finally going to get to fly. The legends of the spirits where vague but she proceeded fearlessly along the dark cave, which soon opened into a dark chamber.
“They must be in there,” Tha'lif said pointing. They stopped just before the threshold of the chamber. It was shaped like a hive.
“Any ritual or procedure that we need to be aware of?”
“No,” Tha'lif answered Cassy's question, “I doubt that they'll even notice us – even if we came in shouting.” Tha'lif took the first steps into the chamber. Their where shelves positioned in all the indents of the walls. On the shelves were bottles, vases and boxes of bright colours, reds, purples and golds. Dispute being within a mountain their was still light in the room which shone off the shimmering vessels.
“They live within,” Tha'lif explained, “in those vassals they have their own world.” Despite her comments about shouting, Tha'lif spoke quietly, it felt as though it was only proper in such a place. “At least that is what is said. The world within is devised by their own imagination, or perhaps that of another. They can live any life, do any thing that their imagination can conceive. This is the reason why they have been difficult to speak with.” Tha'lif stopped once they had completed a circuit of the room. She walked into the center, which was marked with a red circle on the floor.
“I'm not sure I understand,” Cassy said, “play is integral to all sapient species. Non-sapient species play as well. Some of our ships have been known to attract sea creatures, they dive and, what you might call dance, around the ships. It would be considered play – not that I'm an expert. Nevertheless those species wouldn't neglect their requirements to live. Why is it different for the spirits?”
“Well,” Tha'lif said, now standing in the exact center of the room, “they do not live in time with us. It looks like they are slow to respond to the outside observer. It is their weakness. The real world need not concern them. They are stagnant society.”
Cassy nodded, “so how do we get their attention?”
“I am Tha'lif,” Tha'lif called to the room by way of a response. "As was prophesied by the centaurs with have come to seek you. We need your help. Please understand. You may blink and think it a moment but in that time a generation has passed. Wake from your slumber please and see time as we do. It cannot wait a century,” she stepped out of the circle holding her palms out, the equivalent of a shrug, she stepped out of the circle.
“This could take a hundred years?”
“A second in their reckoning, less.”
“Do we really need them?” La'ingif asked.
“We still don't know all the facts about the scroll you found,” Cassy said, “the manticores may soon overwhelm us.“
“We can't exactly return to the old home and ask for help.”
“We would be turned away,” said Tha'lif, “just like the Thell'frane.”
Suddenly at the apex of the room they saw a brown mist begin to float down towards them. It swirled around and became a pair of simple cloth boots. Above these were thick trousers, a brown tunic above which was a crude leather jacket. The mist seemed solid now, it had become an elf-like form. It wore a helmet that covered much of its face. Strangely it had hair, not just on the top of its head but also on the face itself. It, the man, carried a shield on his back and a sword sheathed on his belt.
“I am Thor,” came a booming voice, it cased the bottles and vase to rattle, “who dares disturb us?”
Tha'lif swallowed, but managed to give a defiant answer, “you need disturbing,” she even managed to raise her voice slightly at the end.
“We,” Thor rumbled, about to object. Instead he conjured himself a chair and sat down. Tha'lif thought this a rather odd thing, firstly he couldn't possibly be tired and secondly being seated probably made no difference, therefore it was a symbolic gesture. He scratched at his rough chin, frowned, sighed and looked Tha'lif in the eye, “you talk boldly for someone so young.”
Tha'lif opened her mouth, before she could think up a well worded apology Thor continued.
“I like it,” he smiled, “better than the groveling we usually get.”
'Usually,' Cassy mouthed to La'ingif, she wondered how often something had to be, to be considered usually amongst these people.
“What do you need?” Thor asked.
“The manticores are threatening us. We need your help.”
“That,” he said pointedly, “is a matter for you and your kin. Those who were seduced my magic.” He had now settled to a more sensible volume level, despite his answer being, apparently no, he still remained.
“Those of our kin are no longer in control. The Dark Ones were killed by their slaves.”
“The manticores are simply beasts, they will not control the empire well. Give it time.”
Tha'lif was now having trouble keeping her tone in check, “the incident I speak of happened over one and a half thousand years ago."
"A time not worthy of mention.”
“Perhaps not to you,” she said, then looking round the room she continued, “don't any of you understand we are different. Sunrise to sunset is a day for us, it is significant we have, maybe a hundred and forty thousand days, not the great expanse of time you have. “ There was silence. Thor however looked like he was considering the request. “To do what you ask would be exceedingly difficult. We cannot work on you're plain of existence. Like you trying to assist an insect with a construction job – it is too delicate work.”
“The the choice left to us,” came another voice, this one distinctly female, “is to give them the power to help themselves.” The three elves looked upwards to localize the voice. More mist began to descend from high above, this time white. It formed in to the shape of a beautiful woman. Her hair was long, thick and black. She wore, what seemed to be, a single piece of white fabric – though spirits didn't wear anything in the literal sense – it was in fact party of her. The fabric was draped into a gown that covered one leg, swathed across the body and covered on shoulder. Her skin had a strange reddish-pink completion and her ears were smooth rather than pointed.
“I am Pandora,” she said, now that she was fully formed.
“What,” Tha'lif began, “how did you come up with the form that you now employ?”
“This is the form of the humans.” Pandora said.
“They were spoken of in the scroll we found.”
“Do you have it with you?”
“Yes,” Tha'lif said, producing it from the bag, “it is now in original form, we of course used a translation spell.”
“Yes of course,” Pandora said as she took the scroll, “this is strange.”
“What is?”
“Well the language reads similarly to one of the human languages. It is different though. Yet we are aware of all of their languages. At least I thought we were.”
“Language can change greatly over time.”
“True.”
“So how is it you know the humans?” Tha'lif asked.
“We have had some sporadic contact with them,” Pandora said.
“Yes indeed,” said Thor, “many of us have visited them. We planned to simply be guides, but they do not understand magic and they believed us to be gods. The lack of understanding lead to wars being fought. Each one of us taught in the way that worked for the particular culture, and many of those cultures thought their way was the only way. Suffice it to say, we no longer visit them.”
“We can help you,” Pandora said, “give you what you need,” she floated up to a high shelf and brought down a box.
“In here is the oldest of us that exists on this planet. Zeus. He is nearing the end of his life and it is only at this time that many of us realize the error of our existence. He has hardly seen this world, living instead in the perfect world of of his own imagination. Some humans describe it as the god realm – never achieving anything, because there is always another day...until, somehow suddenly there isn't.”
Pandora whispered to the box. A weak, croaky voice was heard.
“The reason for their difficulties in fighting manticores is that the Fauns cannot match their power. If they could, they would be able to offer better resistance. This will be my destiny, to finally give something to the world. I hope that there is another existence beyond this one, so that the next few million years is better spent. Release me!”
Pandora opened the box. The mist of Zeus permeated throughout the cave. It headed out the way the elves had come, crossed the sea to the Fauns, rifled through the caves of the Dwarf countries and spread through the Centaur kingdom.
“It is done,” Pandora said, “the magic of Zeus has permeated the world – this one and that of the humans. It will effect each race differently. None shall be as natural as the elves with magic. The Fauns are already starting to free themselves and they will require your help.”

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 11

It was midday when they arrived at the foot of the mountain. Their staffs had had their exercise now it was the turn of the elves. The path up the mountain was obvious having been well trodden. As they looked down they saw the hoof prints which had most probably made the path simply by treading the same course.
“I thought people coming here was rare.” said La'ingif.
“People visiting the spirits is rare,” Tha'lif corrected, “but I imagine that there are frequent centaur visits, on pilgrimage.”
As they continued up the mountain it was a fairly easy star. After the first steep ridge they came upon a sign post. The letters where all straight edged, not a curved line among them, in stark contrast to their own script, which hardly had a straight line.
“That's Norkeish,” Cassy said in recognition, “best to find out what it says.”
“No need,” Tha'lif said, she pushed Cassy's staff back.
“You can read it?” La'ingif asked.
“I can.”
“You never cease to amaze me.”
Tha'lif smiled at the compliment and read the sign allowed, “It says, 'Travelers welcome to the mountain of Democritus. You are welcome to climb here. Let it be known that what is on this mountain stays on the mountain. There are guardians here who will help, should you need it. Enjoy your climb.'”
“That's all!”
“What were you expecting?”
“I don't know,” La'ingf said, “beware those who pass this way.”
“That implies violence. This place is holy,” a voice came from the trees, and a centaur
emerged. His unicorn-like back was a dark brown it blended into a lighter brown at his torso. He carried a quarterstaff.
“I am Guardian Olympus.”
“I'm Cassy, this is La'ingif and Tha'lif.”
The centaur slapped his left shoulder with his right fist and bowed his head, in salute. Cassy returned the gesture, albeit with slightly less force.
“Why are you here?” Olympus asked, “I mean no disrespect by the question but I should like to know.”
Cassy decided to tell the truth, “to meet the spirits.” It seemed as if the silence was somehow meaningful, the centaur's face became serious.
“Then the prophecy has come true,” he said, “our seers said that one day three elves would come to speak to the, spirits as you call them. We know of the threat posed by the manticores. Now that they have reached this land we must unite. All that makes them dangerous, means that they cannot touch this mountain. Most magic does not work here.”
“I speak from personal experience when I say the manticores are still dangerous,” La'ingif said, “they do not need magic.”
“I suppose not,” Olympus conceded, “at least it makes for a more even battle. A warrior does not shy away from an uneven fight, but it is better to win the war than to go prematurely to the Great Banquet. I will be your guide if you will have me.”
“We would welcome your help,” Cassy said.
Olympus showed the way with his outstretched arm and he and the elves headed up the mountain. The quad walked in silence for while, taking in the scenery of blue sky, white thin clouds and green mountain.
Before long they began to talk. Olympus told the story of the prophet for whom the mountain was name, Democritus.
“Democritus died 1442 yeas ago,” Olympus said, “we mark our time by his death. So we are currently in 1442. He is remembered as being the greatest of us, kind, thoughtful and always whiling to help others. Some say he never truly existed, that's all right. Even if it is just a fable, the idea remains powerful.”
“I'm a little confused,” Tha'lif said, “If he died that long ago then it was before any of us came to this land. How is it then that this place was named as the place he died?”
“I fear that you may have read a mistranslation,” Olympus said, “this place is not so much where he died as where our spiritual leaders reaffirmed their belief in him. When my people and yours came to war in the old home, we had abandoned Democritus. Those of us who traveled here made a new kingdom in the shadow of this mountain. What you probably read was that this was the place where Democitus death lead to greatness.”
“Translations are bound to throw up some problems,” Tha'lif said, as she ran for a few strides to catch up to the faster centaur.
“It may seem odd to you to hear this, but we believe that the majority of Democritus work happened after he died."
“After!” La'ingif exclaimed.
Tha'lif shot La'ingif a fiery glance, “it's a different religion.”
Apparently oblivious to La'ingif's words, Olympus continued, “our afterlife, is divided in to several realms. We believe that when you die your deeds determine your place in the afterlife. We believe, as I believe you do, in reincarnation. This for us takes place ten days after death, the intervening time spent in one of the realms.”
Tha'lif hung on his every world. The climb, which might have be otherwise tiring, tricky in places, seemed to pass more easily. Cassy and La'ingif were somewhat interested, they however spent their time engaged in small talk.
“The realms are varied. The lowest level in a volcanic place – only through toil can one leave this realm of fire. The highest of the realms is the Grand Halls of Kankorr'loth. Here we eat drink and are merry, for soon we are reborn”
“There is no such place in elf beliefs,” Tha'lif said, taking advantage of a brief pause as Olympus galloped up a small rise, “the reincarnation is formless – intermingling of form and thought. It is said that some have been able to delay their reincarnation so as to be in the right place at the right time. Why the ten days?”
“Opportunity.”
“Opportunity?”
“To gain in the afterlife what one did not manage in life. If you have committed great acts of evil you will find yourself in the fire prison. If you work hard you can escape the torments and the hardships. The closer to Kankorr'loth you are at the end of the ten days the better your new life. Those who live a good life, arrive in Kankorr'loth are normally content to make merry for those ten days. However Democitus was different. He spent only a day in those grand halls. With the other nine days he headed down through the realms to the realm of fire. He helped the damed in their struggle, taught them and in the process they achieved a better state of mind – a better new life.
“Is their someone among your current people who was Democitus?”
“Not for a while,” Olympus said, “we believe he has chosen not to reincarnate. He is perhaps, as you said some elves were able to do, waiting, for the right time. In the meanwhile he will over come the demons and fight for those who need it the most.
The group stopped for a moment. The landscape stretchering out around them. Such a shame it would be if the manticores came here, blighting the landscape.
“Tell me of your people,” Olympus said, “what belief system do you hold?”
“Nothing quite so,” Tha'lif searched for the right word, “elaborate.” She stopped for a moment as they came to a large rock blocking the path. Olyampus backed away from it and took it at a run. Just before reaching it he jumped, sailing through the air and landing atop the rock. He held his arms over the edge and helped each of the elves up.
“Thank you,” Tha'lif said, “where was I? Oh yes, out beliefs focus more on the hear and now.”
“What do you mean?”
“We do not have an afterlife, not as such. There is life after life but not what you would call an afterlife. There are no specific deity for instance, or prophet as you know it.”
Olympus listened with interest, he was pledged to protect the mountain like
the other guardians, like his mother before him, and her father before that, every generation since his people first arrived in this land. Then when he became a father his child, once they came of age would continue the tradition. The job of guardian was often a solitary one – so any story fascinated him. He would listen intently no matter who he accompanied; those who climbed the mountain because it was there, worshipers on pilgrimage or a group of elves written down in prophecy.
“A rebirth,” Tha'lif's words were slower now as she tried to speak simply without being confusing or misleading, “is not, in our beliefs, controlled by a force. It is one owns being that helps to determine where one is reborn. Sorry into what form someone is reborn – there are some of us who can guide their rebirth however.”
“But,” Olympus said, trying to keep his questions diplomatic and friendly, “how are you to know what is good without a point of reference?”
Tha'lif nodded accepting his point. “We have commentaries, people have written much literature on the subject. These writings are however not infallible. Everyone can make mistakes and each teacher has his or her own ideas of right and wrong. I suppose if there is one cornerstone rule, belief it would be the idea of doing for others as you would have dome to you.”
“We have a smiler central philosophy. May I ask the name of your teacher?”
“Thrin of El'Ingrth.”
They came to a ridge overlooking a lake. It was one of four on the mountain. The lake was calm and the wind blew across the water making small waves. Another centaur stood by it, over the far side as the group approached. Olympus trotted over to great him.
“What food do we have?” asked La'ingif.
“Birch's people were most generous,” Cassy said opening the pack, “we've fruits and berries. Plenty for us after a big dwarf meal.” Cassy passed them a few fruits and a handful of berries on plates. They sat nibbling quietly enjoying the chance to just sit, even if it would only be for a short while. As magic would not work on the mountain they drank from bottles they had brought, rather than being able to simply conjure the water.
Once they were replete they rose, ready to continue. Olympus came back over, the centaur he'd been talking to headed off to another part of the mountain. Cassy tossed him a small juicy purple fruit and while he ate they walked on.
“Why do you seek the spirits at this time?” Olympus asked.
The elves exchanged a few meaningful looks, as they tried to communicate whether it was all right to say anything. Deciding that it was Tha'lif explained. She told him about the discovery of the scroll, its message and briefly the sequence of events that had lead to being here now. Olympus seemed personally skeptical that the spirits would help, nevertheless there was the prophecy, it seemed unlikely that that would have been written if the elves were destined to fail.
The terrain of the mountain seemed to fluctuate greatly. It went up, down and had areas where it was almost flat. For a while the group only briefly talked as they helped each other over the more difficult areas of the climb.
“Here we are,” Olympus declared spreading his arms wide. They now stood looking down at another beautiful lake. This one had still waters that looked like you could walk on it. Despite the stillness it still seemed to glisten and made the elves feel more at home. It was water and trees that where the thing of elf desire. They stood for only a moment before deciding how best to head down to the lake. It truth, rejecting scrabbling down on their backs, their really was only one way down. They walked up a gentle slope and then the path wound down to the lake side.
“Beautiful,” Cassy declared.
“It is,” Olympus said simply.
Sitting by the lake Cassy opened her pack. She looked at its contents for a moment as if in deep thought, pulled out a bottle of water and took a swig. La'ingif thought he might go for a swim. He approached the water and dipped his hands into it, it was very cold.
“Where are the spirits,” La'ingif asked, coming back from the water's edge.
“Up their,” Olympus said pointing. He pointed further around the lakeside, high up the cliff face that framed the lake on three sides. They could see a cave.
“How can we reach it?” La'ingifs voice was a varied mix of emotions, worried that their was no way and they would fail but also thinking that there might be a way, only he was too scared.”
“I think it is supposed to be difficult,” Tha'lif said.
“I can think of no way to reach that cave without magic,” Laingif said.
However La'ingif was wrong in his assertion. It was simply the case that elves did not know how to work without magic – it was that integral to their very being. As it turned out the lack of magic was not the obstacle that it might first have appeared. Elves still understood that materials had a strength of their own, a climber would use ropes – yet he wouldn't dream of climbing without a protective shield.
The magic of the pixies was on a far subtler lever. This was to the degree that they could bypass that which prevented magic from working on the mountain. The others hadn't yet noticed that Cassy was ready for this eventuality. Putting the bottle of water back she pulled from each of their bags a thick brown rope.
“They gave us these,” Cassy said, “they have a strength of their own. In a way it is alive.”
“So are our staffs,” Tha'lif said, “they can do nothing here.”
Cassy was about to respond but realized she actually didn't have an explanation. They had tried their staff of course but they had seem drowsy. Being on the mountain had indeed effected them. It was however Olympus that offered an explanation.
“You can only defend against that which you know.”
“I'm sorry?”
“A fortress is well defended. The moat prevents heavily armed forces from crossing to it and the high walls make it difficult to fire arrows. However I'm sure with powerful magic you could demolish the walls.”
“You're saying,” Cassy said, “that pixie magic works differently to our magic?”
“Yes.”
Cassy nodded in understanding and walked to just below the cave. She placed two of the ropes on the ground and swirled the third like a lasso, then threw it at the cliff face. As it approached the ends of the rope splayed out like a claw and embedded into the rock. Cassy took the other two ropes, one at a time, and did the same.
The three ropes were now embedded in the cliff face. La'ingif came and stood next to Cassy looking up at the three ropes, he didn't like where this was going. Cassy on the other hand had a smile on her face as she approached the rock face. Taking one of the ropes in both her hands and her feat on the cliff she climbed hand over hand up the side. She breathed deeply from the exertion, as she neared the top she pushed off and was able to swing herself into the cave.
“Come on,” she called. Her voice was exhilarated, she was slightly out of breath but her tone sounded more like she was inviting them to join her in lovely warm water – rather than to climb a cliff face. Tha'lif took a deep breath as she approached the cliff face, she was sure that she wouldn't be able to climb as well as Cassy had. Tha'lif used two of the ropes, a hand on each to slowly pull herself up, it took a while longer but soon she two reached the cave.
“You can do it,” Cassy and Tha'lif said in unison to La'ingif, who stood at the bottom looking most unsure. In time he said, “I'm not sure I can do this.” His words were barely out of his mouth before the three roped converged on his position. The first rapped itself around his middle and with the others help he was lifted up.
“Wow,” he said as his feat touched down.
“Not so bad was it?” Tha'lif said, kissing on the cheek.
“No,” he said, still rather unnerved.
“Good luck,” Olympus called from below.

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 10

The severed tail landed with a thump as a safe distance from Tha'lif as Cassy declared her defiance to her perusers. Tha'lif looked at the tail for a moment deciding how best to pick up the deadly appendage. It didn't take her long to see that it had been sliced with a sufficient stump. She carried it by the stump, held out in front of her like someone else's dirty handkerchief.
As Tha'lif placed it on the ground the herbologist, who wore thick gloves, picked it up by the deadly end. With her other hand she used a dagger and sliced the tail through and with great care she removed a poison sack. She then placed the poison sack into a wooden bowl, along with some herbs and sliced the poison through, it dripped into the bowl.
“That'll kill him!” exclaimed Th'liff.
“It'll save him,” the herbologist said softly, “he is dead if we do nothing. It is different if ingested we can teach his body to fight the poison.”
“So he'll be immune?”
“No,” the herbologist said, “but it'll save him in the here and now.”

Cassy arrived back, she lay panting on the ground. Next to her, her staff pushed itself up on a pair of vines and wriggled itself into the ground. It soon became a restful tree once more, gathering energy from the diminishing light. Cassy rolled onto her front and looked ahead at the spell being performed by the pixies. Having flown so far she was glad of something to watch, something she didn't need to be involved with. Sitting up she watched. The pixies were reciting an incantation, seated around a small bowl.
“It is ready,” the herbologist said.
Tha'lif held La'ingif's hand in both of hers. The herboligist dabbed his wound with water, then poured some of the antidote onto his lips. Rubbing them gently with a large leaf his lips slowly opened. The herbologist then poured the rest of the liquid into La'ingif's mouth.
“Now what?” Cassy asked.
“Now we wait.”

As night came Tha'lif wasn't sure that the medicine had helped. La'ingif's body had begun to quiver again, and it seemed to be getting more intense. Tha'lif felt she couldn't watch any longer. Time was all that was required now and Tha'lif sat with Cassy, with the glowing jewel of a staff for light.
“We should have heard from Nayrath and Shaydon by now.”
“They will contact us when they can,” Tha'lif said, “we should continue on tomorrow.”
“I know,” Cassy said, “its just I've never had a command before.”
“You'll do fine,” Tha'lif said, she hoped her tone was reassuring, “in any case we don't know what happened to them. As you contacted The Twelve – they may well have been rescued.”
Cassy was unconvinced by Tha'lif's words, “I've known Nayrath for a long time - if that were the case he'd have reported in by now.”
At that moment there was a thud of a message orb just ahead of them. Tha'lif reached for it with her staff and it rolled towards her. Holding it in her hand Nayrath's voice emanated from it, “we're alive. The Twelve responded to our request. Get where you're going, we do not have much time. Tha'lif knows where the spirits lie. Go with her and we will do our best to keep the manticores away. Good luck.”

It was only just light as Tha'lif awoke the next morning. She walked over to La'ingif. A pixie had been seated next to him all night. Tha'lif knelt next to the observer as she looked at La'ingif wondering what to say, the pixie spoke.
“The cure worked. He sleeps now.”
“Can I wake him?” Tha'lif asked.
The pixie frowned at that question, she shrugged as if to say, its nothing to do with me.
“La'ingif,” Tha'lif said softly. She kissed him on the cheek, then on the lips. His eyes fluttered and he looked at her.
“Tha'lif!” He grabbed her arm and quickly hugged her to him. “Thank you. So good to be able to move. Thank you for all your efforts. I could sense everything. I could see and hear, but couldn't move – well not controllably anyway. Can you imagine that?” He paused. “I could have been left, eaten alive, no pain, but...”

As the sun rose the pixies awoke – as if spirited into life by its rays. They began to prepare food for the travelers. La'ingif was ravenous, he had never been so pleased to see food. Each fruit tasted so much better than normal. It might have simply been the sudden sensations after having been paralyzed or that the symbiosis between the pixies and the trees meant that the food was much improved.
Once he had eaten La'ingif felt suddenly energized. He got to his feet and said, “I'm going for a walk. I've done nothing for the past few days.”
“You were paralyzed,” Cassy said, “we do have, what could be, quite a long trip ahead of us.”
“I know,” La'ingif said, “but a short walk isn't going to make much difference.”
“All right,” Cassy said, “I'll use the time to gather some supplies together.”
“We would be happy to help,” one of the pixies said.
La'ingif headed off into the wood and Tha'lif joined him. At their command the staffs came leisurely through the air to their hands. The elf couple held hands as they walked in silence.
“Far enough,” Tha'lif said.
“Sorry?”
She smiled at the look of utter confusion on his face as she kissed him and stroked his long black hair. Her hands moved to his arms caressing them. She kissed him again and whispered, staff in hand. With a white light her clothes fell to the ground and folded themselves neatly. La'ingif looked at her naked body, pulled her to him and kissed her, more passionately that he had ever done before. He ran his hands over her breasts as he whispered the same spell. His clothes joined hers in a neatly folded pile. They touched their staffs whispering a couple more spells and the staffs moved away. They kissed again running their hands over each other's bodies, then they touched foreheads. Tha'lif placed her hand on La'ingif's chest and he fell lightly backwards onto a conjured rug. Tha'lif lent over him and kissed his lips, neck and chest.
While Tha'lif and La'ingif caressed and kissed their staffs became intertwined. They rapped branches and vines around one another. Jewels glowed and the staffs became one. They moved like a slow dance as their masters made love.

“This should do nicely,” Cassy said. The Pixies had filled three bags with supplies for their trek, “thank you?”
“You are most welcome,” the pixie who had been assisting her said, “while you wait for the others, tell us a tale.”

Tha'lif breathed deeply as she lent forward to kiss La'ingif on the forehead. She swung her leg over him and lay down beside him. She took a moment to neaten her hair, and smiled stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. Meanwhile their staffs had separated, connected by vines clutching one another.
“I hope you don't think I took advantage.”
La'ingif sat up before he responded to the question, “no.”
“I wanted to show you life,” Tha'lif said, “after pain.”
He flashed a smile as he kissed her, “Cassy will know.”
“How?”
“The trees!” he said with a slight delay, “they do prattle you know.”
“No different from home trees,” she giggled, “well maybe a little – didn't even bother me.”

Hand in hand the couple returned. Cassy was engaged in the telling of a story to the pixies. They were gathered around her, hanging on her every word. It was somewhat odd to Tha'lif and La'ingif the interest with which the pixies sat. The story was very familiar two them, often repeated by grandparents and parents alike. - Sort of the elf version of 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf', in terms of how well known it was.

“Thank you,” one of the pixies said.
“Your welcome,” Cassy said, “when our mission is over I'm sure my people would be interested in setting up a trade relationship with you.”
“We would be interested too.” The pixies stood and moved away into their dwellings. They exchanged no words of parting and one could almost imagine that they drifted rather than walked around. Cassy stood and coming over to the couple asked, “have a good walk?”
“Yes,” Tha'lif said, chocking back a double entendre remark that came to mind.
“Good,” Cassy said, “as it is we've lost no time. I've been 'paying' for our supplies. We've got packs and are ready to go. Where do we go from here?”
“I'm afraid,” said Tha'lif, “They are said to live atop Elgrin mountain. Waking them might be difficult, they have been known to sleep for thousands of years. They are neither nocturnal nor do they live in the day. It is always tomorrow with them – they can always put something off.”
“Then we'll fly to meet them.”
“Not possible,” Tha'lif said, “the mountain is protected. They only way is to climb. The spirits are the epitome of magic, they can grant wishes. You'd be surprised how much a climb can put people off, make them forget the wish.”
“Is it safe?”
“Yes,” Tha'lif said, trying to keep her answer succinct, “to the centaurs the mountain is holy. Believed to be the place where one of their prophet died.”
“I see,” said Cassy, “anything more I need to know?”
“Well.”
“Go on.”
“Its not relevant,” Tha'lif said, “I wouldn't want to ramble on like a warlock.”
“I always rather enjoyed the warlock's ramblings,” Cassy said, “even to the point where I was disappointed when the Warden cut them off.”
“All right,” Tha'lif said, “the mountain is protected by a small group of centaur guardians. I am unsure whether they will help us. However, since we are not causing damage to the mountain side, I doubt that they will hinder us. The centaur legends do say that the prophet was unsuccessful in contacting the spirits. So the centaurs may find it laughable that we think we can achieve what he could not.”
“We should go.” They swung their sacks onto their backs, mounted their staffs and headed away.

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 9

The Grand Council, commonly know as The Twelve, were the rulers of Eleslthinor. Of course the elven leadership was not simply these twelve, there were others that dealt with the more day-to-day decisions. It was however The Grand Council that decided upon the most important aspects of the society, the rest being delegated to the smaller councils.
The Grand Council had been founded shortly after arrival in what became Eleselthinor. The elves had traveled long from their first home in El'eleciln. The first group were elected and conducted their affairs as the The High Council had in El'eleciln had.
For their council dwelling they gathered together the staffs from those of their number who had died on their journey. These staffs, instead of becoming the usual thin branched tree, unified into one large tree, This became known as the Jewel Tree. Called so because it shimmered like a glistening jewel when the sun court it. Up in the high branches was where the council assembled. Their were thirteen platforms, one in the center and twelve around it. The council didn't have an official leader. The de-facto leader was the one who had served the longest. Today that leader was Gwothin. She stood in the center platform and spoke to the council.
“The manticores have been seen flying above our skies,” she said softly, “we must decide what to do. They have not attack us directly yet but the day will come.” She bowed her head and returned back to her platform on the outer edge. Another of their number stepped forward. This elf was far younger. Even for an elf she spoke quietly as she explained herself.
“We would be fools to ignore that which does seemingly not yet effect us, for if we wait till that day we may find ourselves very much alone.” She paused for a moment to nods of agreement, “then we shall send emissaries to the fauns to assist them in their war.” The elf returned to her platform and another approached the center. This was Cha'clin, before serving on the council he had served in the Wardens. Cha'clin was effectively in charge of all military matters.
“I agree with Councilor Soth,” he said referring to the previous speaker, “I will send a message to the Wardens and we will send help to the fauns.”
Gwothin took her place once more in the center. “It is decided then. We have been quiet for far too long. Allowed too much evil to continue unchallenged. The mission to the spirits continues and with their help we will prevail,” she held up her hand, “I know that they have not come to our rescue before but contact has hardly been attempted since our arrival here.”
It was at that moment that the red orbs flew through the canopy and landed at Gwothin's feat. She bent down to pick them up and with her magic the information the orbs contained was sent to the assembled.
“Cha'clin,” Gwothin said, “send them the help they require.”

Dwarf warriors came rushing out of the cave. They carried with them crossbows, their armour was think and bulky. They had barely been outside a moment before the fired to the sky. The flurry of bolts headed upwards. Unguided by any magic they simply traveled in a straight line, so either they met their mark or they did not.
As he looked on Nayrath was gladdened to see some of the bolts bringing manticores from the sky. Those manticores that hit the ground were approached by dwarfs – who smashed their skulls with their large hammers.
“We can help them.” Nayrath said,
“Perhaps we can take a tail from one of the dead,” Cassy said.
“We won't be that lucky, they'll see us coming,” Nayrath said, “though its worth a try. Let's go.” He thrust his hand across the magnification screen, disappearing it.
They moved off putting their staffs into a nose dive. The air rushed passed them as they plummeted, the ground rushing up towards them. They were tight together as they fell and broke away each heading for a different manticore corps. The manticores noticed them, they rose away from the dwarfs towards the elves, preventing them from reaching the ground.
“We'll do this the hard way,” Nayrath said, “form up towards me.” The two followed him, close by. Shaydon whispered a spell as she dodged a disemboweling shot from a manticore. Her whispered spell produced a blue orb which she threw down to the dwarfs.

“Elves,” Detek declared. He finally thought his people might have a chance. He aimed his crossbow and fired. The bolt shot passed its target. He swore and prepared another shot, as he was about to fire he saw his previous bolt still airborne, evidently under a spell. It did hit, with a little assistance. He was ready to fire again when a blue orb landed at his feat. Its shimmering and changing surface made it clear this was magical. He was however unsure if it had come from the elves or the manticores. His question was soon answered as a voice bellowed from it, “get your people inside, this will protect you.
“Sir, sir,” he called, “we have protection from the elves.”
“Fall back,” his superior said, apparently recognising the orb. The dwarfs ran back towards their caves, they entered them. Detek dropped the orb in the entrance way. He was unable to disguise his fear as the manticores approached the entrance. They didn't reach him, they seemed to hit nothing and fall back in a daze. He ran into the cave. However in the main chamber there was still a battle to be fought. The manticores had entered earlier and now the dwarfs fought them inside. Here their was a slight advantage that the manticores couldn't simply fly out the way. Nevertheless they still had their magic, Detek watched, frozen with fear for a moment, as a manticore shot shattered a Dwarf hammer. He was about to head to them to join the fray when suddenly he could sense the blue light behind him. Whatever that thing had been that the elves gave him was glowing now. It reached forward with many tentacles and grabbed the manticores inside and threw them out of the cave. He stood against the wall as manticores passed him flying passed higgledy-piggledy, not under their own control. They hit the manticores still trying to enter the cave then, the orb glowed once more, disappeared and became a dome around the manticores.

Five manticores approached the elves. Nayrath gave orders for the others to move away from him, as they split away he said one last order, “uniforms.” He was sure by this point that help was certainly on the way, being inconspicuous had been a short lived requirement. As they headed off in their respective directions a wash of colour came over them and they were once again dressed in their dark blue Warden uniforms.
Nayrath lead the manticore section away, he turned leading the manticores high up, keeping in mind the ceiling of their abilities. He drew his sword, gripping with his legs.
Meanwhile Shadon and Cassy tried once more to head to the ground, only to be met by more manticores coming from the tavern. They headed up giving themselves some distance.
Nayrath spiraled upwards. The Manticors slashed, but found only air, they used their magic, but Nayrath was too quick. Nayrath fired a spell which hit the nearest manticore, he hurtled to the ground with a hard smack.
The mantiocores from the tavern favored Cassy and followed her.
Shaydon followed the line of manticores that perused Nayrath. They headed upwards, Nayrath sent spells behind him, Shaydon sent spells ahead. Soon they had eliminated the group.
Cassy sped away from her perusers, leveling off she turned round whispering to her staff. On command it produced spiked projectiles, like house-chestnuts, which it shot at the manticores. Two hit a couple of manticores right in the forehead sending them to the ground. The other projectiles swung round back towards their enemies. One manticore fired and destroyed the house-chestnut that might have killed him. Cassy told her staff to keep the manticores at bay while she looked down for another opportunity to snag a tail.
Manticores perused Nayrath, only a few seconds after he had shaken off the others. This time they came in from several directions. Holding his sword out he came to a stop, spun around, and swung his sword over his head and around him. Some manticores flew away from the whirling elf others were cut by the end of his sword.
Shaydon was still with him and in the confusion she cut the tail end off of one of the beasts. It yelped in pain and fell unceremoniously to the ground, not able to fly with its equilibrium lost.
The tail end was cough by Shaydon's staff, in one of is spontaneously sprung vines. Then at that moment manticores closed in on her, she swerved to avoid them. She was successful in evading, but in the process the staff lost its grip on the tail.
“Get it back their!” Nayrath yelled, a mind the slashing and biting.
Cassy watched as it fall, she gripped her staff with her legs and drew her sword, having sheaved it for a particularly tricky manoeuvre. The end of the tail was falling poison spines first, the heaver end. She nipped it with her sword causing it to turn, just for an instant. She grabbed it by the safe fleshy end. Whispering in their sweet language she said; “Find where you are needed!” With the spell the tail sprouted wings and flew off at high speeds. Cassy watched it for a moment.
One of the manticores turned his attention to her, the jewel in its paw glowed, she dived leaving her staff.
Nayrath sheaved his sword as the manticores closed in. His whispered to his staff. From inside his robe he pulled two daggers. They looked more ornamental than functional. They had a shining blade, in line with the handle and orbs on the end of the hilt. Nevertheless these blades were not ornamental. He handed them to his staff's outstretched vines. He was soon beset by three foes. Between the fighting of he and his staff he dimly caught sight of Shaydon's clean cut of the tail. Then later he saw it drop. He yelled something out of instinct, but couldn't have told you what it was a moment later.
Cassy was only off her staff for a second at the most. She had dropped her sword. However the staff had saved her by rapping its vines around her middle and lifting her back on to it. She called her sward to her, which arrived with a little more force than she had intended, then headed to help Shaydon and Nayrath.
“Face that way!” Nayrath ordered Shaydon. Their staffs prepared themselves. They grew the horse chestnut like projectiles they had previously and began to launch them at high speeds. They would all meet their mark eventually, but the elves remained outnumbered. As a manticore was hit, Nayrath caught sight of Cassy coming up to assist.
“Complete the mission,” Nayrath yelled.

It was with some regret that Cassy turned herself around to head back through the forest to La'ingif and Tha'lif. Looking behind her she soon noticed she was being pursued, by five manticores, She and her staff were both tired.
They thrust on for a short way, over tree stumps and through branches but soon she felt herself beginning to loose speed. Her enemy were getting closer, they had recently left their new barracks and would not become tired for a long while. It was in that moment that Cassy decided that it was time to stop running. She had to face them now, rather than draw them into the pixie lands and endanger others. She turned off her course for deceleration and came to a stop in front of her perusers. Then as if it was the most natural thing to do in this circumstance, she got off her staff and sat, cross-legged on the ground. She tried to meditate, however briefly. Then the manticores arrived. They landed just ahead of her, and began to prowl around her.
“Today is your death, Elf,” one of them snarled.
Progress indeed, thought Cassy, the manticores had moved from killing to taunting – then killing. “No.” she said defiantly, “well see what Ella has to say about that,” she tapped her staff.
“There is one of you and...”
“Two, of us,” she interrupted the manticore calmly.
She stood, her staff in her right hand looking over the five manticores that prowled around her. The enemy looked unconcerned. She span her staff around like a baton and it sprouted vines grabbing two of the enemies and bashing their heads together. One of the remaining manticores lept at her claws out. She moved out the way firing off a spell with her staff. The vines of the staff retracted and she handed each one a dagger. She span the staff around with twists of her wrist. The knifes flailing wildly. The manticore tried to get to her but got slashes across his face. The manticore failed to notice her muttering and suddenly the jewel in the staff glowed and they were hit hard into trees. She smiled in a brief flash of emotion, mounted her staff and continued on at a leisurely pace.

The ground around the Miner's Bounty was littered with dead. Shaydon, Nayrath and their staffs were becoming exhausted. It was true that the manticores had been unable to touch them, and only five could comfortably attack at any given time. There were many more of their enemy. Then their were still the manticores bottled up in the glowing dome prison.
“They will soon escape,” Shaydon said.
“I know,” Nayrath said, he considered his last words, but all that came to his minds were clichés. Then before he joined with other soldiers in saying those words he notices blue specks on the horizon. The reinforcements they had requested.
Suddenly the manticores were hit by a barrage of spells, they tore through their wings and they fell from the sky. The elf reinforcements were lead by Unthrin Balshall. She brought her staff alongside Nayrath.
“Good to see you, ma'am.”
“Glad we could help.”
“Those manticors are going to free themselves soon,” he indicated the dome on the ground.
The elves headed down to the ground a safe distance from the dome. They didn't have to wait long. The manticores broke through their cage and growled as the flew from it. This time it was the elves turn to be the pursuers. They followed the manticores as they attempted to flee, firing at them with all the weapons they could. The manticores tuned and fought. The elves, now with the advantage of numbers quickly defeated them.
They touched down.

Rolling Shadows - Chapter 8

As soon as Nayrath joined them the party took to the sky. La'ingif's staff cradled him in vines, slung underneath like a stretcher. If the staff could have wept it would have, it cared for its master and would be with him till the day he died.
A staff did not join to another when the master died it usually returned home and rested in a forest of other former staffs, or else it chose to grow into its tree form at the place where its master fell. However La'ingif was not dead, though his trembling was becoming gradually worse.
Tha'lif cast a glance every so often at her boyfriend's quivering body. She was of course concerned but didn't know enough of manticore thorns to have any concept of the seriousness of the situation, did it kill – albeit slowly, was it paralysis. As much had been said by one of her companions, she wasn't sure she could hear anything any more. It was still dark but few hours of night remained, they still needed sleep. Knowing they were high enough to avoid most obstacles Nayrath kept his eyes on the ground. He was looking for a place they could rest, if only for a few hours. They talked in brief sentences, to the point, not that elves were known for beating about the bush. Cassy had suggested that for now the best thing they could do was to leave the thorn where it was, Shaydon disagree and suggested they should pull the thorn out.
Nayrath agreed with Cassy he said, “pulling an arrow out is not always the best thing to do. In any case there is a risk that the thorn could snap and then we might never get it out.”
“Here looks good,” Cassy said looking down.
“Indeed,” Nayrath said, looking where she pointed, “we're a good way from the tavern, it should do for the evening. Cassy head down with La'ingif and Tha'liff, Shaydon: lets try and find some wood for the fire.”
La'ingif's staff followed Cassy and Tha'lif. As it neared the ground it lay him down and a blanket spread from it covering him. Tha'lif and Cassy's staffs became illuminated at the ends to light their way. They sat alongside La'ingif under the long over hanging branches that just scraped the ground. Tha'lif placed La'ingif's hand in hers, “it'll be all right,” she told him.
“I'm going to see if I can help the others,” Cassy said, “will you be all right here for a while?”
“Yes.”
As Cassy walked away Tha'lif heard a voice, “greetings,” it said. She looked up and around trying to discern from where the voice had come. She saw no-one. She spoke quietly to the wood in the hopes of getting a response but, nothing. So she went back to lightly stroking La'ingif's hand. She wondered if he could feel that. In due course the other's returned. Cassy asked if their had been any change. Tha'lif shook her head. The others had brought wood with them and laid it down starting a fire. Tha'lif's hand moved to stroke his staff, the living tool showed no reaction other than creating a second pillow for its master's head. Tha'lif laid down next to her own staff and performed the same spell.
She watched the hypnotic flames rising like ornate blades in the darkness. She asked Cassy whether she had heard the voice. Cassy replied that she had not and they each closed their eyes.

Sleep do not come immediately to Tha'lif. She pondered whether the others could sleep because of their experience, their training. It could have been simply exhaustion. Her worried eyes remained fixed on La'ingif. The fire had died down almost burnt out. Cinders glowed in the charcoal. She watched them, like fireflies in the night, slowly they faded into blackness or it might have been her heavy eyelids.
“Greetings,” she said to the night in her last breath of consciousness. There was only the calls of the night birds. In the last few seconds of consciousness a jumble of thoughts came to her; of La'ingif, of the manticors, her friends, her parents. La'ingif lay motionless now, his eyes were open, they moved uncertainly.
Sleep finally took Tha'liff.

The next morning they awoke with the rise of the sun shinning through the branches of the trees around them. The wind blew coursing the shadows to dance across their faces. La'ingif seemed to be worse, he wasn't even quivering now. His eyes apparently remained the only thing he could move.
Shaydon had walked away from the group early that morning and returned now. Her lips showed evidence of a smile having been their. Her cheeks were a little white showing they had been flushed. She wished them a good morning as she arrived back with them.
“Morning,” Nayrath said, “where have you been?”
“Down to the stream,” she paused, “I sent I message to my brother.”
A less adept commander might have chastised Shaydon right there, Nayrath knew her better than that and was sure she would not have endangered them of their mission. Shaydon explained that she had been careful not to reveal an information about what they were doing. She told them that her brother had some experience with manticore attacks, this had been the reason why she had sent the message.
“What did you find out?” Nayrath asked.
“The manticore thorns are natural,” Shaydon was sure this was known to Nayrath but she was always a thorough person, “they were used for hunting. It enabled the manticores to get pray with little risk to themselves. They could ambush a group of catoblepas, the thorns fly off like darts. Those that are hit are downed and the group leaves without them.”
“Believing them to be dead?”
“Yes. Then the manticores simply return when it is believed safe and eat their pray. Now of course they are simply a weapon of war.”
“So they do not kill?” Tha'lif asked with a glimmer of hope in her voice.
“I can't say,” Shaydon said with regret, “when my brother encountered them he had full medical resources with him.”
“Then it is treatable.”
“Yes. Some creatures near the mountains of manticore origin have even reported to be immune to the poison. All I can say for sure in this instance is that La'ingif will eventually fall into a compete comatose state, making him completely unresponsive, but...”
“But what?”
“The senses still work, to an extent.”
“It would be horrible,” Tha'lif said, fighting back tiers, “eaten alive, you could...”
“Don't,” Nayrath said placing a hand on her shoulder, “no need to think about it. That's not going to happen. He's not dead yet. We shall do whatever we can to help him. I think that...”
“Greetings,” a voice interrupted.
“We won't hurt you,” Tha'lif said, “show yourself.”
“You bring weapons,” the voice said, “staffs of magic. Are you here for us?”
“No,” Tha'lif said.
“These weapons are to defend ourselves,” Nayrath said, “we have enemies and must defend ourselves. I assure you we will cause you know harm. I apologise for being in this forest of yours – we simply needed a place to rest. We shall be moving on as soon as we can.”
“Your worlds are sincere,” the voice said, “I believe I can trust you.”
“You can,” Tha'lif said reassuringly, “who are you?”
When their was no reply Tha'lif said, “I will prove it to you. See that tree stump up ahead. I will go their without weapons or staff so you and I can talk.”
“All right,” the voice agreed.
As Tha'lif walked towards the tree line Nayrath exclaimed from behind her, “No. Stay here. That's an order.”
Tha'lif stoped, turned and said, “I am not under your command.”
“No,” Nayrath admitted, “but you are under my protection and I say 'don't go'”
“I'm only over their,” Tha'lif said, “I'll be fine.” As she walked off unconcerned Shaydon whispered to Nayrath that she could go and bring her back. Nayrath simply shook his head and said, “let her try it.”
Tha'lif came to the tree stump she had pointed out to the mysterious speaker, she sat. Then above her the leaves rustled. A small creature came falling from the canopy landing at her feat. Even though Tha'lif sat the small being came up to he knee. She wore clothes of woven leafs, that nevertheless seem to give her freedom of movement. Tha'lif looked into the creatures eyes, as near as she could with the height difference. In those blue pools she saw the wisdom of adulthood, then hight did not equate to age, for this species this could be an adult. Far the most predominate feature of the creature where here ears. They were size of the side of her head, broad in the middle and thin at each end.
“I'm sorry for being so mysterious,” she said, “I was scared. You seem serene, but those you travel with are not. They are here through orders. You all care about what you are doing but those you travel with have to be here. Why do you travel with them?”
“Your very astute,” Tha'liff said. “in answer to your question, I have skills that they required.”
“I am not astute so much as I listen,” she said, “it is the trees that deserve the credit. The see all and listen. My name is Belss. What's your name?”
“Tha'lif”
“Your friend is hurt.”
“Yes.”
“Bring him we can help you.”
“You know of manticore poison?”
“We do.”

Tha'liff followed Birch as she headed deeper into the forest, like a wide-eyed child promised sweets by a grandfather. Nayrath had been watching closely. When he saw Tha'lif about to leave with the creature he mounted his staff, tapped the ground and headed straight for them. Suddenly, just before he got to them vines reached out from one of the trees and grabbed him. They brought him forward and backward, swinging him to slow him down, so as not to cause injury. Though no sound had been made the small creature seem to know what had happened. She turned to face him, putting her hands together. The tree returned Nayrath to a standing position and on of the vines handed him his staff.
“Your fast,” she observed, “I'm Belss, and you are?”
“Nayrath.”
“Most proficient, I must say,” Belss smiled, “you have wounded allow us to help you.”
“Thank you, but,” Nayrath realised his sentence didn't have an end, but what, he thought.
“You do not know how to help him?”
“No.”
“Then allow us. Bring him.”
“Thank you,” Nayrath said and indicated for Cassy and Shaydon to follow, “what would you ask in exchange?”
“Let us try,” she repeated and she walked with such fluid motion one might think she could float.

Belss identified her people as pixies. They were a race that were said to share a common ancestor with the elves and thus had some magical ability. Nayrath's doubts ebbed away as they followed behind her. The more rational part of his mind hoped that was not some magic. In truth he doubted it, if these beings did have magic it was most probably far subtler that that of the elves. Behind him La'ingif's body floated, for his brother he felt he had to take the chance. In that moment he didn't care about orders.
They came into a wide clearing where the pixies moved about between the trees, long branches hung over the area, the same as they tree that the group had rested under. It was now confirmed that Belss size was not atypical of her kin. The pixies live in squat wigwams of curved wood in the center of the clearing. They moved with purpose, attending to the trees but still stopping occasionally to converse with one another. It was a most idyllic way of life Nayrath thought as he looked on. They were symbiotic with the trees, even more so than his own people. Belss then spoke, seemingly to no-one. Almost as if she where saying to the world 'I exist' at a party where she was being ignored. However unusual this might have seemed to the elves it was apparently normal behavior. At that moment, from one of the wigwams, their emerged a pixie. He was just a little taller than Belss, with grey hair that covered most of the top of his head. His ears too where hairy inside and out. The man looked at Belss for a moment before saying, “hello, Belss,” his simple greeting had a definite air of 'what have you got yourself into this time' about it. The man looked up at Nayrath and the others and was glad to see that this small man showed no sign of being intimidated nor frightened, so as to act irrationally, of the visitors.
“These are elves from far away,” Belss said, “they need our help.”
It occurred to Nayrath that he should probably say something. He stepped forward, considered how to address this man, decided on kneeling, knelt and said, “I am Nayrath, we would appreciate any assistance you could offer.”
“A manticore thorn,” the man said, “we can help you. The herbologist will be summoned,” like Belss had previously he spoke like he was thinking to himself. This time however his messages was relayed by other pixies down away from them.
“Thank you,” Nayrath said, standing, “I am sorry to bring this trouble to your wood. However I fear this may only be the first of many such incidents you may have to bear. As you are aware of the manticores you know...”
“That they will come,” the man said, “she will be here soon.”
“Who?
“The herbologist of course.”
The man smiled, feeling the need to say more, “if you are thinking you are to blame for the manticores do not. Because you are not.”
“Not me personally,” Nayrath said, “but my forefathers could be blamed.”
“For no actions but their own. It may have been in inaction that the Dark Elves came to power, that they endowed the manticores with these abilities – that lead us to this situation. The Dark Elves are to blame.”
The herbologist arrived. She was plump and a good deal shorter than the other pixies. Her hair was matted with leaves and she smelt faintly of lavender. She looked up at the elves, smiled and moved directly over to La'ingif.
“Can you help him?” Tha'lif asked.
“I will have to look,” the herbologist said calmingly, “but I believe it can be done.” Her eyes turned to her patient, his quivering had stopped, only the eyes could move. The herbologist lifted up his arm which dropped straight away to his side, she declared that she had seen worse. Tha'lif thought this a rather odd time for a joke, but then she thought with a smile, perhaps it was also the best time. The herbologist now looked closely at the wound without a moments hesitation she yanked out the thorn.
“Be careful,” Tha'lif said.
“It can do no damage now,” she placed the thorn on the ground.
“We were concerned that it could snap,” Tha'lif explained.
“A swift straight pull and they come out easily.”
“How do you know about these things?”
“I worked with the Dwarfs in The Interregnum,” she said, “we encountered some manticores. Several dwarfs where speared by these things.”
“Did they...” Tha'lif couldn't complete her sentence.
“Live? Yes. We did get to them sooner, this may not make a difference,” she looked up from her patient, “we'll need fresh poison.”
“That might be difficult,” Nayrath said.
“He's your brother!” said Tha'lif in a rare occurrence of venom in an elf their voice, “Nayrath please. I know our mission is important but...please.”
“Of course we'll go,” Nayrath said, “Cassy, Shaydon.” They headed a short way away and mounted their staffs, “Tha'lif,” Nayrath said, “if we are not back by sundown, we probably won't be, should that happen I want you to continue in the morning.”
“I will.”
Nayrath nodded, looked to the woman that flanked him and with their nods confirming they were ready the three tapped the ground and took to the sky. Tha'lif watched them go for a moment before turning back to the herbologist.
“Thank you for your help,” she said, “what may we give you in return?”
“Stories.”
“I'm sorry?”
“We have all we need,” the herbologist said, “food shelter warmth. So we excel in culture we want to hear of your people and in so doing help to enrich us.”
“Would history count?”
“Of course.”
“Then I have a story for you,” she paused to sink into a narrative voice, “The temple was situated on an island in a river that flowed through Eleselthinor. It was a quiet place where people could explore their spirituality...”

Nayrath, Cassy and Shaydon pulled their staffs upwards, they slowly climbed. Soon they were far higher than was usual for a staff-rider would usually ride, high enough to pass over large mountains, their staffs had sprouted deep blue oxygen berries to assist their breathing in the reverified air. They know that manticores couldn't reach this height and so it was a strategically sound position.
They were now high above the Miner's Bounty. It looked little more than a toy from their height. Nayrath performed a spell and from the jewel at the end of his staff their came a shimmering light, like a star, it expanded in front of them to form a rectangle. The rectangle angled itself downwards to show them the landscape beneath but magnified.
They could now see that the ground was carpeted in dead, some manticores but mostly dwarfs. They had been warriors and even in death they seem to grip their hammers and axes tightly. The bodies lay from the cave entrance all the way to the tavern.
“We abandoned them,”Cassy said.
“We caused this,” Nayrath said, “I think they were here for us.”
“Another prophecy perhaps,” Shaydon suggested.
“Perhaps,” Nayrath said with a nod.
“We should inform The Twelve,” Shaydon said.
“They probably know,” Nayrath paused, “but it would do know harm.”
The elves interlaced their fingers and placed their thumbs on their temple, closing their eyes they thought of all the pertinent information about what had happened to them since their departure. While they did this their staffs sprouted small cradles into which red orbs appeared. Each of the orbs glowed. The elves took theirs in their hand and bowled it underarm through the air. They speed away, knowing their destination instinctively – The seat of The Twelve.