Breathe in …

Breathe out …

How many times had her Grandfather stressed this, “Master yourself and you will master the world”. His voice was always in her head as she practiced, and trained.

They had been in the wilderness now for several days.

After the attack it had been chaos in the small village where up until then she had lived all of her life. Sadly the image of the lifeless body of her Grandmother was still fresh in her mind and even now she could not focus on her task at hand … dinner.

“Please Terrenna remember your training.” the soft calm voice came to her from behind ... her only remaining family member ... he whispered to her “focus now on the small hire and let fly”… and with a final effort the young elf slowed her berthing and focused … with a small twang the arrow shaft leaped from her child sized purpose built bow to find its way into the neck of the rabbit.

“Good my child good.” A smile of approval on his lips let Terrenna know that she had at last followed her drill and found her target. But quickly the smile faded to that of grim determination. With a swift motion the old man walked up the slope to retrieve their dinner. He then sat motionless and listened to his surroundings. Terrenna also recognized this stance and soon was herself listening to the very air and earth around her for signs of the pursuit. After several moments of what would be considered normal natural sounds a dark thought begins to creep into her mind. She begins to feel a steady rhythmic vibration in the ground … She shakes her head free of her concentration, only to see the old man look into her eyes, then motion for them to continue their steady loping run back into the wilderness … away from the pursuers.

As they run the old man skillfully cut open the animal and sliced two strips of raw meat from the flanks. “I am sorry my child but this will have to do for now”. She willingly accepts the raw food and consumes it as she runs. “Any meal is welcome before dire deeds must be accomplished”, the old mans voice rings in her head. Always a saying for every training exercise and every move she makes. Her grandfathers voice is her own inner conscience filled with his gift for simple yet power full hunter’s ways and sayings. “Remember Terrenna the hunter is he who controls the game, and the hunt is not over untill the last move is made” the voice in her head echoes.

Why the Orcs came they did not know. Why her Grandmother was slain remained a mystery. Why they pursued the two lone elves now Terrenna could not imagine. Her small world of love and training where now shattered, and into a larger world her Grandfather returned but Terrenna was just entering.

Suddenly her Grandfather placed himself just behind her as they continued running and with some hesitation began to speak. “Terrenna … your Gran loved you like no other in this world … She believed to her last that you where a gift from the gods themselves. I too have loved you my child … our time and training together has re-kindled the passion of my youth for the hunter’s way. But now is the time for truth.” His voice grew more serious and Terrenna nearly tripped over a root in the path … the truth? “ My child we knew that your mother had died while giving you your very life … but your father … Hoth … though he has not returned to our lands, was never seen to be … dead. Many is the time that I have felt what I believe to be his life essence still pulsing in this world … thought we told you that he was dead … we love you child and did not want to fill your head with false hope … but now” The old man slackens his pace . “Now you must begin a new journey … we … your Gran and I are not your blood Terrenna … we where merely given this time in this world to spend with you … and care for you” … It was then that the old man stopped and looked into the young girls eyes, and with grim determination spoke.

“Now it is time for you and I … yes even all of your past to part ways … you must discover for yourself who and what you are in this world.” The young girls eyes begin to well up and two small tears trickle down from the corners. “If ever you loved me or your Gran you must now be strong for us ... and our memory. Go Terrenna … the deserts of the west was where your true father and his family traveled … and then disappeared … Perhaps the gods that have been so kind to us … and blessed us with your presence will again be kind to thee Terrenna. Go my child … run … RUN as I taught you!”

And so she did … filled with sorrow and loss of all that she had known … she ran.
Updated Feb 2006
Copy write Scott Lindquist