"Thank you for your offer," the elf maiden said formally, her rich voice lilting and even, "but I already have a companion for the celebration." She reached out a slender, smooth-skinned hand and laid it gently upon Taenaran's shoulder.
The half-elf nearly burst out laughing at the look of consternation and disbelief that passed across Andaerean's face, soon followed by a piercing stare full of hatred. The elf tael bowed low again.
"Well," he said in clipped tones, "since I have done my duty and am now assured that you would be spared the indignity of attending tonight's feast alone, I ask your leave to retire."
He spun around quickly and grabbed Nardual. The two walked briskly toward the waiting tree line, but not before Andaerean turned to look once more at Taenaran. The half-elf felt the tael 's hatred, like spears thrown from the angry cast of his eyes.
Taenaran groaned once the two companions moved out of sight. "Now you've done it," he exclaimed. "Andaerean is truly angry now."
"Andaerean is a pig," Talaedra spat, "whose manners, however cleverly disguised, would be more appropriate among orcs than elves. I cannot believe what he said to you."
Taenaran felt the tips of his ears burn with shame. "Then you heard what he said?" the half-elf asked. "Well," he continued, not waiting for a response, "thank you for coming to my rescue." He gave the maiden a quick bow then started to walk toward his pack.
"Where are you going?" Talaedra asked. "We haven't talked about tonight."
Taenaran stopped suddenly, as if caught in a spell. He turned to face the elf maiden, afraid that she would disappear and he would come to realize that this whole day had been nothing but a dream. "Th… Then you were serious about this evening," he stammered when Talaedra didn't fade from existence.
Her smile lit up the storm-clouded clearing. "Of course I was serious," she replied. "Where shall I meet you?"
"But your father," Taenaran began, "won't he be-"
"My father," Talaedra interrupted, "will be far happier knowing that I am spending the evening with an honest and good-hearted tael, no matter his bloodline, than if I were accompanied by a conniving and spiteful apprentice who barely conceals his own venomous heart behind a web of lies."
Taenaran simply stared, unable to respond.
"Good," Talaedra said, "I'm glad that it's settled. Why don't I meet you at the Verdant Pools and then we can walk to the celebration together?" She smiled once more then bent forward to kiss Taenaran lightly on the cheek before leaving the clearing.
The half-elf still stood there, honestly confused by what had just happened. Perhaps, he thought, this really was a dream.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, as if in answer.
Drops of water fell from rain-soaked trees, spattering Taenaran's cloak. Absently, he wiped away the few errant droplets that ran down his face. Despite the arrival of spring, the night air held a fierce chill. Above him, thick clouds shrouded the moon's illumination in a mantle of silver-gray luminescence.
None of it mattered to the half-elf. In fact, another Time of Troubles could have fallen upon the world and he would scarce have noticed-for Talaedra waited just beyond the next bend in the forest path. Friendships had been hard to come by, living as a half-blood among the elves of Avaelearean. Taenaran's friendship with the young elf woman meant that much more to him because of such difficulties. Now, however, the half-elf felt as if they stood upon the brink of something more, something deeper than friendship.
Taenaran smiled in the darkness as he scrambled up the last rise leading to the Verdant Pools. His smile turned to a curse as the worn leather scabbard he wore banged against an out-thrust expanse of rocks. Not for the first time, he wished that he could travel without the weight of his sword dragging at his side. As a student of the bladesinging art, however, he was expected to wear his sword always-as a means of being prepared for anything that might occur, as well as to remind him of his essential duty to the elf people.
When the shadows along the trail suddenly surged and shifted, resolving into several heavily cloaked figures, Taenaran prayed silently in thanksgiving that he had not, for once, shirked this discipline. The half-elf spun to his left, eliminating the possibility that his enemies could surround him by pressing his back against the rock. One of his assailants stepped forward and swung a thick-boled length of wood at him. He ducked beneath the blow and tried to draw his weapon, only to find himself caught beneath a press of bodies. Punches and kicks rained down upon him. He tried to cry out, but the violence of the attacks knocked the wind from him. When the weight bearing him down to the muddy earth disappeared, it was all he could do to crawl on all fours, gasping for breath.
"Get up, you a Tel'Quessir scum," a voice barked from somewhere above him.
Taenaran gazed up at his assailants, who stood around him in a loose circle. They each wore thick black cloaks and most of their faces were covered with a thin black veil, leaving only their eyes to stare coldly back at him. The half-elf wiped blood from his nose with the back of his hand before struggling to rise. His mind spun rapidly as he fought to stand. Had they discovered Talaedra? Was she safe? By the sound of their leader's comment, this wasn't an attack from outside the elf community.
"I said rise," the voice shouted again.
It was followed by the sharp strike of a booted foot against Taenaran's ribs. He doubled over in pain but refused to fall to the ground. Carefully, he tried to calm his mind and gain control of the fear that ran through his body, leeching his strength. The mind was a warrior's greatest weapon. His masters had said that often enough, and now he intended to take advantage of their wisdom.
"Stand before your betters, ape," the leader spoke again.
This time Taenaran clearly identified Andaerean as the speaker, despite his attempts at camouflage.
"Andaerean, stop this at once!" another voice cried- Talaedra's.
Taenaran cast around for the elf maiden and found her struggling to free herself from the hold of two of his attackers. She looked unharmed; fire burned within her gray eyes. Relief flooded through the half-elf. At least she hadn't been hurt.
"I wish I could stop it, Talaedra," Andaerean responded, "but I can't. This one must learn his place!"
"When my father hears of this-" Talaedra began.
"Go ahead, run to your father, Tal," Andaerean spat. "Who would believe that I had anything to do with this?" The elf looked around at the other cloaked figures. "Besides, I spent the evening before the celebration training," he continued with a harsh bark of laughter, "and a master will confirm it." Andaerean stared right at Taenaran as the others carried on his laughter.
"You filthy piece of troll dung," Talaedra shouted. "I'll-"
"Shut up!" the elf demanded, as he raised a fist and brought it down hard upon the elf woman's face. "If you want to be an ape-lover, I can't stop you, but I'll be damned if I'm going to listen to you mewl about this piece of filth!"
As the elf's fist smashed into Talaedra and she sagged against her captors, something burst deep within the half-elf. All of the anger and shame he had felt his entire life welled up within him like a magical storm. It wasn't enough that they hurt him, now they chose to hurt someone he cared deeply about.
It would end here.
With a snarl of rage, Taenaran quickly drew his sword, ducking easily away from the hands that grabbed for him awkwardly. His blade sang from its scabbard with a terrible, metallic keen. In his white-hot rage, he could not see Talaedra plant a wicked jab with her elbow into the stomach of her captor. Nor could he see her kick herself free from another of the elves and lunge forward, toward Andaerean.