CAN'T RUN FROM FEAR

by Dana Evans

(DF 20 Spring)

“Curse these Rockclimbers,” Torisen swore as his blade cut through his enemy’s gut. The elf screamed and his blood sprayed Torisen’s white clothing. These animal-blooded elves have always warred with us over the water, Torisen though bitterly. Why can’t we make peace over it?

Torisen did not have time to think about it. His long dagger swung up, deflecting one of the Rockclimber’s blades. He kicked the smaller elf away. A scream in a voice all too familiar to Torisen broke through all the others that were ringing around him. He jerked around and saw his un-Recognized lifemate, Fleyan, fall with two arrows buried in her chest. Regardless of the danger, Torisen knelt beside his love and took her in his arms. Experience told him that she would join the High Ones from those wounds. Through the blood, she smiled up at him.

**It is less painful than I imagined, Torisen. For me, the nightmare ends,** she sent, and then she was gone. Tearfully, Torisen nuzzled her cheek and then leapt back into the fight, lest he join her in the High Ones’ arms, and he wasn’t ready to die. He rejoined the fight with a brutality he had not thought possible.

After the battle, Torisen allowed his grief to hit him fully. He curled up in the corner of his ward and cried. He was startled by his sister, Asha. Her eyes were red-ringed and swollen.

“You heard them?” she asked, seeing her brother’s tears.

“I can’t believe Fleyan’s dead,” he muttered, not hearing her.

“Fleyan’s dead?  Oh, Tori, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know, then why…?” Torisen hesitated.

“Mother and Father are dead,” Asha said flatly.

“Dead?  No! No!” Torisen cried. Asha dropped by her brother’s side and they clung to each other tightly.

That night, Tori and Asha watched as their parents and friends were tied to zwoots and then the animals were scared out into the desert. The Wind Riders couldn’t bury their dead in the shifting sands, and so they sent them into the deep desert.

Torisen went back to his ward, shrugging off those trying to comfort him. Once there, he began to fill his pack. He was tired to death of it all. Insanity waited for him if he remained. Torisen loved peace too much. His beloved harp was placed into her leather case. He readied his weapons. As much as he would have loved to leave these behind, Torisen knew he would need them.

“Tori, what are you doing?” Asha asked coming into the ward, startling her brother.

“I’m leaving, Asha. Come with me.”

“Torisen, are you insane? Where would you go?  What else is there but us and those animal Rockclimbers?” Nothing!  You have no where to go!  Stay here and help destroy those Rockclimbers once and for all!” Asha exclaimed emphatically.

“There is no once and for all!  It’s never ending!  How can I stay here? How can you still want to fight?  Mother is dead!  Father is dead! Our friends are dead! I can’t stand the death any more!  Elf should not kill elf!  I can’t stay.”

“You must not go! Kalan won’t let you go!”

“What are you going to do, run and tell chief Kalan? What’s he going to do? Hold me here in ropes?” Torisen screamed at her.

Asha turned away in tears. **You’re all I have left, Hlaoroo,** her mind sobbed. Torisen stiffened at the use of his soulname. While he and his sister knew each other’s soulnames, they rarely used them.

**Lea, please understand. I’m not as strong as you. I will surely die if I stay.**

**Then go, Hlaoroo. I can’t have your death on my soul.**

**Lea, you’ll never leave my heard.**

Asha crushed herself to her brother in a tearful hug. When they could find the will to let go, Torisen stroked her cheek, shouldered his pack, and then stepped out into the darkness. He whistled softly and was rewarded by the almost silent flap of wings.  Torisen’s trained hunting hawk, Wing, settled onto Torisen’s arm, gripping tightly to the long heavy glove on the elf’s left hand.

They hadn’t gone far from the village when Wing took to the air with a shriek. Torisen’s long dagger was in his hand and he scanned the area. He heard the soft pads of the cat’s feet a second too late. The mountain lion’s claws tore his back even as he leapt aside. A Rockclimber elf leapt from the cat’s back and swung a sword at Torisen. Too stunned to move fast enough, Torisen got his belly slashed. The gash was bloody, but luckily not very deep.

Wing flew down and pecked and clawed at the eyes of Torisen’s attacker. Torisen recovered and sunk his dagger into the Rockclimber’s middle. It was a mortal wound, but Torisen knew it would take a long time for the Rockclimber to die. He believed that no one should have to suffer, so he mercifully finished off his enemy.

Unfortunately, Torisen forgot about the mountain lion. He heard it growl and whirled only to be knocked to the ground. Instinctively he got his hands between his throat and the cat’s fangs. Screaming in pain as his hands were rent, Torisen thrust the mangled hand farther down its throat, choking it. His other, bleeding hand grabbed up his dagger and opened the cat’s neck.

Shocked and nearly delirious with pain, Torisen ran, and then glided away. He had no idea where he was headed or even of what he was doing. Finally exhausted and weak from loss of blood, he fell from the sky. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

“Go on!  Get away from him!” someone screamed. It cut through to Torisen. Wing’s screeching, and the high pitched piping of some strange multicolored things threatened to explode Torisen’s aching head. He tried to move, but found he was covered to his neck in sticky white threads.

“What?” he murmured weakly.

“Awake are you?  Falling asleep in a preservers’ wood isn’t too smart.”

“Preservers?  Who are you?” Torisen finally focused on a pale elf with dark brown hair that was worn loose but for a braid framing the left side of his face.

“I am Dreamchaser.”

“What… are those noisy little things?”

“What?  The preservers?”

“Is that what they are?” Torisen asked.

“Yes. They love to make messes. Who are you?”

“Torisen. How did I get here?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I’ll have you out of this stuff in a moment.” As Dreamchaser pulled off the wrapstuff – much to the distress of the preservers – he re-started the bleeding of the wounds on Torisen’s belly and back.

“You’re hurt!”

“Badly,” Torisen gasped as he pain was renewed.

“These pests may have saved your life. I’ll have to bandage as I go.” Dreamchaser did his best, but when he uncovered Torisen’s hands he was at a loss as to what to do. Bones jutted out at odd angles; muscles were hanging or missing altogether; ligaments and tendons were exposed, shiny white against the red muscle.

“High Ones!  I… I don’t know what to do!”

“Do what you can,” Torisen breathed, as he went deathly grey and fainted.

When Torisen came to, he found his head pillowed on his turban. He could see Wing perched on a limb, watching Dreamchaser roast a rabbit over a fire. He put his bandaged hands against his head. They throbbed terribly and Torisen moaned in pain.

Dreamchaser jerked his head up at the sound. “Awake again? I have a little something for the pain. I’ll give it to you after you eat something.” Dreamchaser eased Torisen into a sitting position and leaned him against a tree. He plucked meat from the rabbit ad put it into Torisen’s mouth, though the wounded elf found he didn’t have much of an appetite.

“I owe you my life, Dreamchaser,” he said quietly.

“We’re here to help each other.” That struck a chord with Torisen.

“Yes. I never knew a green, growing place like this existed,” Torisen sighed, taking in the forest.

“Where do you come from?”

“A desert. It’s that… well, I’m not sure where it is. I don’t know which way I came. What’s that?” Torisen cried suddenly, his eyes fixed on something behind his companion.

“That’s Silverblaze, my wolf-friend. Haven’t you ever seen a wolf before?” Dreamchaser asked incredulously. Torisen shook his head, his eyes open wide. “He’s harmless,” Dreamchaser said, but Torisen didn’t believe him.

“Here, drink some of this, Torisen. It’ll take away some of the pain.” Dreamchaser held a winesack to Torisen’s lips. The drink gave Torisen a head rush.

“What… what is it?”

“Dreamberry wine.” Dreamchaser let Torisen have another drink. It did not take long before it put the wounded elf to sleep.

A few cycles of the moon had passed, and Torisen was still traveling with Dreamchaser. He had some trouble adjusting to riding the wolf, which he did while he was healing. It reminded him too much of the Rockclimbers and their cats. Suddenly Dreamchaser signaled for him to stop and be silent. Torisen watched as Dreamchaser stalked something.

A group of large, smelly creatures with weapons burst through the foliage. They startled Torisen so badly that he levitated up past the tops of the trees like a shot. Dreamchaser had taken cover and was letting loose a deadly barrage of arrows. Torisen tried to do the same, but two of his fingers had webbed together in their healing. The rest were stiff, scarred and in pain. His once-accurate aim had been impaired. He had been practicing, to help with the hunting, but he wasn’t where he needed to be. Still, between he and Dreamchaser, they finished off the attackers. Torisen cautiously floated back as Dreamchaser stared at him in amazement.

“High Ones!  My mother told me tales, but I never believed… How do you do that?”

“By the strength of my will, I guess. I could do it as soon as I was born,” Torisen shrugged. To him and the Wind Riders, gliding was commonplace. “What are those things?” he asked, pointing to the dead creatures.

“What? Them?  Don’t you know anything? Those are humans, five-fingers, round-ears, or whatever else you want to call them.”

“I have never heard of such things.”

“Never?” Dreamchaser couldn’t believe that.

“No. I assume they are dangerous.”

“Most are. Some are elf-friendly, but I’m not taking chances with them. As far as I’m concerned, the only good one is a dead one.”

Torisen shuddered involuntarily at that.

The fire lit the two elves’ faces with a warm glow. They had just finished a meal of roasted squirrel. Torisen thought about the day before the last, when he and Dreamchaser had a run-in with trolls. Like humans, Dreamchaser warned him that the only good one was a dead on. Sure, some elves traded with them, but no troll was trustworthy. Torisen was repulsed by the warty green things.

He thought about everything Dreamchaser had taught him, especially on how to survive in the forest. He didn’t know what he would have done without him. Dreamchaser taught him how to really drink wine and how to gamble – both in the same night – and Torisen found he had a real taste for the wine. Dreamchaser had a good laugh when Torisen panicked during a snow flurry. Well, he had never seen snow before, so how was he to know it wasn’t dangerous? The only thing he didn’t like about his association with Dreamchaser was Silverblaze.

“Dreamchaser, how did you get Silverblaze?”

“He came to me when… when things got real bad,” Dreamchaser hesitated, looking at a scar on his wrist. Torisen noticed, but didn’t say anything.

“But why does he stay?”

“We’re bonded. It’s in the blood, I guess.”

“What do you mean… in the blood?” Torisen asked sharply.

“There’s a little wolf blood running around in my veins.”

Torisen jumped up and backed away. “You’re just like them… those cursed, vile Rockclimbers! Half animal, just like them!” Torisen shrieked. Dreamchaser stood uneasily. Torisen looked crazy to him. “Not fit to be an elf!” Torisen spat. “I feel… soiled ever having known you!  Don’t come near me!” he screamed as Dreamchaser moved closer.

“Calm down, Torisen. I thought we were friends.”

“Friends?” Torisen laughed, almost hysterical. “No longer!”

“Sit down by the fire, Torisen. Calm down.” Dreamchaser said, edging closer.

“Don’t!” Torisen half drew his dagger. Both elves froze. Torisen could hear Silverblaze growling. The image of a Rockclimber and a mountain lion crossed his mind. He had fled his home so he would never have to draw a weapon against his own kind, yet he was ready to cut down his friend.

With a strangled cry, he glided off into the night.

From his position floating above the treetops, Torisen spied two hunting elves. He had found the forest valley after crossing a sea of grass. He was lonely, and wanted desperately to go to these elves, but what if they were animal-blooded too? He had regretted running from Dreamchaser several years ago, and he had not seen another elf since.

Perhaps animal blood wasn’t so terrible as he had been taught. Dreamchaser had shown him nothing but kindness and the two had been friends. He and his fear – yes, he admitted, it wasn’t hate, but fear – had ruined it. His mother had always told him that you can’t run from fear.

Nodding to himself, he finally found the courage to meet the others. He was too tired and lonely to care anymore. He wasn’t going to ask if they had animal blood in them or not. He didn’t want to know. He needed company, so he glided down to meet them.

“Hello,” he said quietly. The two elves whirled around to face him. “I’m sorry to startle you. I am Torisen.”

“She’s Sapphire, and I’m Ivory,” one said. “You aren’t from the holt, are you?”

Holt?  That was more than Torisen had hoped for. “No!  Is there one near here?”

“Yes. We can take you there if you’d like.”

“Yes!  I would like that.”  Happier than he had been for years, Torisen followed them home.