Callindra arose before the sun, her internal clock awakening her as the first rosy fingers of the predawn glow reached above the horizon of the forest.  The room she shared with the men she had come to consider her brothers had windows that looked out over the forest canopy.  It was strange, knowing that they were hundreds of feet in the air even though the treetops only looked like they were perhaps twenty or thirty feet below.

Looking at the others, she startled when Vilhylm turned his head and stared at her, but after a moment she realized he was sleeping with his eyes open.  She wasn’t one to question strange habits but that was weird.  How would one come to acquire such an affectation?

She slipped out careful not to awaken anyone, no mean feat in spite of the amount of drinking the boys had done the night before.  The Tree was immense, but after wandering for a time, she heard the sounds of swordplay.  Following the sound, she eventually came to a door that led out onto a massive branch at least 50 yards wide. There were several dozen elves stripped to the waist working sword forms. The style was strange but it spoke to her nature; it was wild and reckless but strangely they used both hands. After watching them for a few moments Callindra approached one of the elves standing to one side.

“Good morning, may I join you for a morning workout?”

The elf gave her a scornful look, “How did you find this place? This training ground is for Bladedancers only. Aren’t you one of those outsiders who brought that evil and fouled the air our goddess breathes? I saw you soiling your blade with magic, and besides you fight with a single sword. Useless human child, leave immediately.”

“I was already going. Your fighting style isn’t nearly powerful enough for me to emulate, and I’d hate to make you look bad. Again. After all wasn’t it my magic wielding single handed fighting style that took down that golem before it could destroy your precious tree? Where were you all that time? Fighting some vicious and dangerous bugs I presume?” She laughed in the elf’s face and walked back into the tree listening to her spluttering indignation with satisfaction.  Even so, she was sad that she had been turned away.  It would have been interesting to spar with them.

After taking a few more turns and found herself on a secluded branch that was small for the Great Tree, only about twenty feet from side to side. Seating herself in the center of the branch with her sword across her knees she meditated and listened to the wind. Despite knowing how useless it was she strained to hear something from her master Glarian, remembering his last instructions not to follow him to Hellgate Keep.

“I will follow your instructions old man, but only until I’m strong enough to feed that black clad bastard his own balls.” She muttered. Standing Callindra began moving through her basic Stances. After the initial warm up she began running her own forms; the ones she used to keep opponents off balance so they couldn’t tell which attack was next.

Although she never would have admitted it to anyone she had given each one a name. Swallow Skims Across Water. Searching the Sea. Holding the Moon. Bird Returns to Tree at Dusk. Black Dragon Whips His Tail. Green Dragon Emerges From Water. Lion Shakes His Mane. Tigress Holds Her Head. Phoenix Spreads Its Wings. Wind Sweeps the Plum Blossoms. Wild Horse Leaps Over the Creek. Snake Strikes Twice. Lightning Splits the Tree.

Just as she was finishing the last sweep of Brightfang she became aware of another presence. Callindra leaped into the air, spinning with her blade held at the ready, Soaring Crane Strikes, and only barely managed to halt her blade before it split the skull of a young elf who stood in the doorway.

“Pox and rot! I nearly cut you in half; you need to be more careful!” She exclaimed.

“Oh my, you’re one of the Outsiders who saved us from those demons! I cannot believe that you are a girl! I would wager you are the strongest girl ever! Mother said I was not allowed to go see you but you came to me.”

Callindra raised her eyebrow at the girl, “What do you mean I came to you?”

“Well after a fashion anyway.”  Her guest amended, “I always come here in the mornings; you can watch the Blade Dancers from here. I wish train with them so badly, but mother and father will not let me.”

Callindra shook her head warming quickly to the pipsqueak’s flattery, “Those stuck up prigs, why would you want to watch them? If they had been worth a damn they would have helped me take down that golem. Lucky for you I’m a mage, not just a swordfighter or this tree would probably be dead.”

The elf’s eyes widened in shock, “But this is the Grandfather Tree. Nothing can kill the Grandfather Tree. What is a prig?”

“Oh, of course you’re probably right,” Callindra didn’t think it was necessary to tell this kid the truth, she ran her fingers through her tangled hair and they got caught in the thorn and brightstar tiara Gode had given her. “Damn I thought I took this thing off last night. I guess I must have forgotten.”

The elf maid gasped, “That is a gift from Gode herself! I saw her give it to you in the Great Hall. I do not believe it comes off.”

“Doesn’t come off? What do you mean doesn’t fucking come off?” Callindra pulled at the tangle of vines in her hair but only accomplished hurting her scalp. Feeling at her hair she found it had vegetation growing all the way from the roots of her hair to the tips with tiny four petal brightstar flowers dotting it here and there. Strangely it didn’t seem to tangle her fingers as long as she wasn’t trying to take it off.

“It’s a Crown of Life, once you put them on they do not come off, otherwise they die. It is a living thing you know, made from Jorda’s hair. You’re really lucky to have it. I think you are the first Outsider to get one. What is your name brave warrior?”

She quit pulling on her hair with a sigh, oh well it was just a few flowers, but why Brightstars? Why not something that would make her seem to be more dangerous like Nightshade or Deathblossom? “My name’s Callindra, what’s yours?”

“Edelweiss” she raised her chin as though preparing for abuse.

“That’s a strong name. Did you know that’s one of the toughest plants in existence? So stubborn it will only grow high up on mountains, no lower than 2000 yards?” Callindra remembered Cronos talking about it before, “I know a lot of people only talk about its healing properties but it’s a really tough flower.”

“You are without a doubt the strangest girl I have ever met.” Edelweiss said, tilting her head to one side, “The Goddess was correct though, you really could be much prettier if you tried. The Crown really does add to your looks you know?”

“Bah. Who needs to be pretty? I find beauty in the dance of battle, in the edge of Brightfang, in the flare of Power when I bend the weave to my will!” She stepped back lightly and swung her blade in a whirling arc, a few leaves swept up around her in a whirlwind and her hair fanned out around her.

Edelweiss clapped her hands in delight. “Amazing! Here we don’t have anyone who taps into the weave. They have to sit around and wait for Gode to grant them power. She is wonderful and all, but it all seems so boring in comparison.”

“So you want to train with the Blade Dancers do you?” Edelweiss nodded emphatically, “Well I don’t have much pull with them but I can help you make a kick ass entrance if you want.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“C’mere and I’ll show you.” Callindra was smiling a fiendish smile. Her small companion approached cautiously. “Come on now, if you’re nervous or hesitant they’ll never take you seriously!” She looked down at the practice yard far below them, mentally measuring the distance, then picked up the slight elf and yelled, “Hang on tight if you don’t wanna die!” and leapt from the branch.

Edelweiss let out a terrified shriek that nearly deafened Callindra but she hung on tight as the wind whistled around their ears. Far below there was a flurry of activity as the elves in the practice yard scurried about trying to figure out how to catch the falling pair. Laughing in wild abandon, Callindra twirled Brightfang in an intricate pattern, forcing the Weave to obey her whim and just before they hit the ground a blast of wind cushioned their fall.

The tiny elf maid opened her eyes and gasped in surprise. “What’s happening? Is this Magic then? It is isn’t it?” She was still hanging on to Callindra’s neck but less tightly now, her eyes shining with admiration. They had landed in the center of the practice yard amid a cluster of furious elves. The elf who had kicked her out before was the closest and in a rage.

“Edelweiss! What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing with this weave wielding savage?” Turning her baleful gaze at Callindra he continued, “What have you done to my son?”

Too stunned to respond, Callindra stared as Edelweiss retorted, “Leave over mother, she is an amazing and talented warrior. I accidently imposed upon her morning practice ritual and she saved me from falling.”

Not precisely true, but a close enough approximation she supposed… but wait, Edelweiss was a boy? Not possible he was far too pretty. “Sorry for the inconvenience. I need to pack for my journey so I’ll take my leave if you don’t mind?” Callindra didn’t suppose she had much of a chance at avoiding a few bruises at this point but it was worth a shot.

“I think not human. I think you need to learn a lesson in manners. As swordmaster I think it’s only fitting I be the one to issue that lesson.” Oh shit. “Why didn’t you tell me your MOM was the rutting SWORDMASTER?”  She hissed at the other girl.

“No need to be afraid mortal.”  The elf said coldly, “I will not kill one who bears the favor of my Goddess.”

“Well, no harm in a little practice I suppose.”  Callindra said, “Maybe I might learn something. If there’s anything I’ve learned thus far in life it’s that pain is a good teacher and what doesn’t kill me has made me stronger.”

“In that case, prepare for a very good lesson girl.”

“Sorry I may have mistaken you for a man earlier.  What is your name?” Callindra never could resist picking at scabs or antagonizing assholes.  She wouldn’t mind being mistaken for a boy, but she bet this elf would take insult.

“To the hells with practice blades” the blademster snarled, “Let’s see what you can do with that little wisp of steel.  You can have my name when you EARN it.”

Callindra sighed, oh well at least she wouldn’t have to worry about fighting with an unfamiliar weapon. But this was gonna HURT.

Callindra strode forward, linking arms with Tryst.  She wanted him by her side if she was facing some sort of formal introduction.  Reaching back to touch Brightfang’s hilt for reassurance she stepped into the largest room she had ever seen.  It would have swallowed the entire Cathedral in Arkasia and still left room on all sides.  In the center a figure was sitting on a simple wooden chair surrounded by twining vines, butterflies and small animals of every description.

“Callindra Sol’Estin, Apprentice of the North Wind Style, Bearer of Brightfang, Wind Warrior and Bladespeaker.”  A voice intoned as she passed the threshold.

“Tryst Te’Chern, Priest of the Ancient One, Wielder of the Scared Waters and Guardian of the Healing Light.”

“Vilhylm Greldiachanin, Master of Masks, Follower of the Carnival of Tricksters and Heir of the Great Caravan.”

“Cronos Torrantrach, Inheritor of the Eternal Flame, Student of the Master of Fire and Vessel of Vengeance.”

Callindra looked at her friends, the questions on her face mirroring theirs.  Before any of them could make comment, another voice cut through the room.

“Welcome Champions, to my dining hall.”  Jorda’s words were filled with inherent power, but it was the slow and certain strength of growing, living things.  “The evil that you vanquished would have arrived here eventually regardless of what you might have done, but your swift and decisive actions have led us to victory.”

The Goddess turned and gestured toward long tables laden with food and drink, “Please join us in celebration.”

To Callindra’s horror, she could clearly see a blackened scar that cut from just behind Jorda’s right eye and disappeared into the simple white tunic she wore.  It puckered the growing green color of her skin with a line of what looked like diseased tree bark.  It seemed Gods could be wounded after all.

“Are you all right?”  Callindra blurted without thinking,

“Dear child, thank you for your concern.”  Jorda said with a beautiful smile, “I greet you and your companions.  Tonight you may ask any boon of me.  You have fought off those who would have destroyed my realm and I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Give me the strength to dominate my enemies.”  Cronos said without hesitation, almost as though he had been anticipating this.

“This obviously hasn’t been a problem for you youngster.”  Said Jorda, “However I think I can assist you in protecting yourself.” She handed him a small token carved of wood with a smile.  “Wear it and call upon me during battle.”

“I have been sent on a holy quest to find the wisdom to contact Gode The Elder.”  Tryst said, “Please can you tell me how I can speak with him?”

“I have information that you will find valuable young Priest.”  The Goddess said, “However, I have insight that will guide you also.  If you will accept my guidance that is.”

“Of course I will accept your guidance Great Lady.”  He said, bowing low.

“You aren’t even going to ask your Ancient One first?”  Jorda asked, amusement tinging her words.  “Very well then, look into my eyes young priest.”

Tryst looked into her face, his eyes uncertain.  His mouth had a firm set to it though.  “I will accept his judgement if he deems my actions to be improper.”  He said.

“Ah, we need more like you.”  Jorda said with a merry laugh, “Your irreverence is good for us.”  A flash of green gold fire flashed between their eyes.

“All I wish is to be able to redeem myself.”  Vilhylm said when Jorda turned to him.  His voice was almost too soft for Callindra to hear.

“You have already done so, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”  Jorda replied, almost as softly, “I cannot give you forgiveness for those who died, but I can give you the strength to fight for the living.”

“I no longer wish to fight.”  He said, his eyes downcast.

“But we need warriors.”  Jorda insisted, putting a finger under his chin and raising his face to look into hers.  “You have seen things far beyond what most mortals have, but there is more strength in you than know.  I will give you something that you can use to help your friends, or create a powerful weapon to strike at the heart of evil.”

She drew a small, very sharp knife from a sheath at her belt and bent gracefully, cutting into the bark like skin of her thigh.   Carefully, she cut a square of it away and pried off a perfect piece of wood.  She placed it in Vilhylm’s trembling hands and placed a kiss on his forehead.  The wound closed swiftly, new bark beginning to grow over it, but her leg still oozed fluid that looked more like sap than blood.

“Please just bless me and my friends.”  Said Callindra, looking Jorda in her eyes, “We brought the evil here, it was only natural we would assist in eradicating it.”

“Your humility is a credit to your nature Callindra.”  Jorda said, “However I think you would do well to address the other parts of yourself.  Being a warrior does not mean you aren’t a woman.  In spite of what the folk you have grown up around may have caused you to believe, being a woman does not indicate weakness.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  Callindra demanded, forgetting herself.

“It means that if you can’t accept who you are and insist on acting recklessly in order to prove your worth you are probably going to get hurt a lot and probably die.”  Jorda said, “I will give you something to perhaps keep you alive until you manage to learn to value yourself as your companions do.”

She reached out a hand and plucked a strand of her own hair from her head and wove it deftly into a small tiara.  It started to sprout tiny Brightstar flowers that perfumed the air with their delicate scent.  Before Callindra could back away Jorda placed it on her head and the vine grew into her hair.  Not wanting to insult the Goddess, she left it there even though it made her feel like a fool.

“I know you are here to ask a question of me and I have no satisfactory answer for you.”  Jorda said, her voice grave.  “All I have is yet another quest, if you’re up to it.”

“You mean you don’t know why Gode isn’t responding to the prayers of his priests?” Tryst said, staring at her in disbelief.

“My father has… faded from our sight.”  Jorda said, sounding tired.  “His influence over the world is waning and the forces that bind his brother are weakening.  I think you may all have felt the influence of that in this world.”

“You mean the green… glowing things?”  Callindra asked, “The things we’ve been calling Abyssal Spawn?”

“Yes.  Those are the servants of Gode’s brother Onde, the ancient God of Destruction.”  Jorda confirmed, “They are not of this world.  Their goal is to destroy this world and everything in it.  If they aren’t stopped they will achieve their goal.  This world needs defenders, and if those defenders aren’t determined it will fall.”

Callindra felt her breath catch in her throat at this simple declaration.  The implication that she was one of those with the power to defy the forces that sought to bring an end to the world that she loved was too much for her to take in.  It was all too much.

“What in the hells are you talking about?”  Cronos demanded harshly, “Look, we were hired to go to the ruins of Lin Lamorak and speak with the Druids there.  When we got there, all that was left was the Dryad Tyreen.  She told us to come here and this was supposed to be the end of that trek,”

“You have earned your reward many times over Cronos and no one would question your integrity if you brought back the information you have gained thus far.”  Said the Goddess, smoothing stray locks of hair away from her face that blew in a capricious breeze.  “I am asking you to go above and beyond what you had initially agreed to do, and I fear I can offer little in the way of reward.”

“I don’t want a reward.”  Callindra said, “I just don’t see how you expect me to do anything against a God.”

“I can give you this.”  Jorda took a pendant from around her neck and handed it to Tryst.  A small hand, the size of an infant’s hung from it.  “This is my piece of the mold that formed the original human.  Each one of Gode’s children was charged with one of them and each of us kept ours safe in their own way.  I fear most of them are scattered and lost, however this one has the unique property that it can point out the closest one of its brothers.”

Tryst took it reverently, and when it touched his palm it spun gently, pointing roughly north.  “I cannot accept this.”  He said softly.

“But if you find them all and assemble them, we will be able to re-establish communication with Gode.”  Jorda said, “If you truly wish to accomplish the mission you were assigned then this is the only way.”

“I want to help you Tryst, I really do.”  Callindra said, “But I can’t just abandon Glarian.  Before I go off on some crazy quest I have to go and find him.  He needs me.”

Jorda looked at her, as if unsure exactly how she should respond.  Finally she gestured to the room, “Why don’t we stop all this serious talk and enjoy the wonderful food and entertainment that has been prepared in your honor?  You do not need to make any decisions right now.”

In spite of being nearly certain that the Goddess was withholding something from her, Callindra was drawn into the fantastic scene before her.  The elves who were here weren’t the battle hardened soldiers she had met so far.  Beautiful women in flowing gowns that seemed finer than spider silk.  Equally gorgeous men in tailored, fitted suits and boots with high heels that clicked on the floor.

Both sexes had their pale hair braided in intricate patterns that made her eyes swim.  Delicate clips shaped like insects, birds and leaves wrought in gold, silver and platinum held the braids in place.  Jewels shone in place of eyes and drops of dew.  The language they spoke was fluid and made Callindra feel as though her words sounded like a handful of nails being dropped down a sheet of metal.

Even though their Goddess had spoken to thank Callindra and her friends, most of the Elves seemed to hold themselves aloof from the humans.  She didn’t hold it against them though, after all she and her friends had brought the evil into their home.  The fact that they’d banished it didn’t wipe out their involvement.

The food wasn’t what she had expected either.  Rather than just vegetables, the tables were laden with thinly sliced, barely seared venison, whole rabbits stuffed with wild onions and slow roasted, skewers with spit roasted birds, pastries filled with only gods knew what baked to a golden brown.

It all smelled so delicious that her misgivings gave way to her appetite.  She sat with her friends, and they all ate and drank, letting go of their fears and inhibitions.  Even if all here didn’t trust them or appreciate their efforts they were together and they had won.  That wasn’t everything that she needed but it was enough for now.

“Callindra, are you awake?”  Tryst sounded as though he had been up for days.

She opened bleary eyes, “I guess so.”  Sitting up she surveyed her surroundings.  The walls, floor and ceiling were all wood.  Not wood paneling, but solid, polished wood.

“Praises be.”  He said, “Now we need to secure an audience with the Druids.”

“Tryst, you look like shit.”  Callindra said bluntly, “I don’t think any high ranking officials would want to meet you right now.  Why don’t you lay down in my bed for a minute, I’ll see if we can schedule an audience or whatever they do here.”

She stood up, noting that she was only wearing her underbreeches.   Her chest wrap was missing, either burned by the insects or cut off for her treatment.  Ignoring the creeping feeling of embarrassment she guided Tryst to the bed and covered him with the blanket.  After a short search of the chamber she located a loose tunic and pulled it on.  What she did not locate was a door.

“Hey!”  She shouted, “Let me out of here!”

A door opened in the wall, a seamless joining that she never would have seen.  A pair of Elven guards stood outside, hands on their sword hilts.  They stared at her for a few moments, her shocked by their sudden appearance, they by her being on her feet.

“Where is my sword?”  She asked, “I demand that my Brightfang be returned to me, what is the meaning of us being imprisoned like this?”

“You are not imprisoned Lady Callindra.”  One of them said, “These chambers are designed for you to recover as quickly as possible.  Your other friends are still asleep, we believed you would also be sleeping for at least another few hours…”

“Yeah, well Tryst has his ways of speeding our recovery along.” She said, eyes flashing with defiance.  Her voice trembled with apprehension though, spoiling the effect.  Callindra imagined she could feel her magic building inside of her, threatening to tear her apart without her blade and fear began reaching icy fingers down her spine.  “What have you done with my sword?”

“All of your personal effects are in a salon set aside for your use.”  The guard said, “If you would follow me please Miss Sol’Estin I would be happy to show you the way.”

Feeling like there must be some kind of trap but unable to see it, Callindra cautiously stepped out of the room.  One of the soldiers led her down a short hallway into a room that had light breezes blowing through it.  One entire wall was open to the outside which showed a vista of pristine treetops.  The ground was not visible.

“Where…”  She took a deep breath, noticing her armor, clothes and most importantly her sword in a tidy pile on a table.  Letting the breath out as her hand closed over Brightfang’s hilt she amended what she had been going to say.  “Where are we?”

“We are in the Grandfather.  In Jorda’s domain.”  He said, “You are guests of honor.”

“Inside the tree?”  She said, her voice dropping to a whisper.  “I knew it was big but… this is amazing.”

“He is vast.”  The Elf agreed, “Outsiders are always overawed by him.”

“I don’t think I would ever stop being awed by this sight.”  Callindra said, looking out the window again.  “I mean… look at it.”

A ghost of a smile played around the corners of the soldier’s mouth.  When he spoke again, his voice was far more friendly.  “You will find breakfast for you here.  If you need anything else, please come to the door and call out.  I will be here.  Later the Goddess wishes you to join her in the main feasting hall.”

“W-what?”  Callindra stammered.  “I’m a warrior, not some simpering maiden who goes to fancy feasts!  Besides, I don’t have clothes to wear to attend a Goddess!”

Now the Elven warrior did smile, “She does not stand on ceremony Miss Sol’Estin.  There is nothing more appropriate for you to wear than your armor, seeing as how it is your status as a warrior that is being honored.”

“Wait, where are my friends?”  She asked, swallowing hard.  “Did the others survive?”

“Your friends weren’t quite as resilient as you seem to have been.”  He said, “They rest, recovering with the help of the young priest’s ministrations.  We expect them to be ready to attend the feast tonight.  Please, break your fast and refresh yourself.”

Callindra watched him turn to leave, unsure of what to make of his statements.  She hadn’t really believed in Gods and Goddesses until yesterday when she had felt more than heard Jorda address the monstrous golem.  Now she was expected to believe that a being that wielded such power wanted to see her and didn’t expect her to be some kind of lady.

“I want to see them.”  She said, managing to focus on what was truly important.  “I won’t be able to relax until I see my friends.”

“By all means.”  He replied easily, “However you must not awaken them.  They must rest if they are to fully recover.”

He led her back down the hallway and she was able to peer through small windows in the unbroken wood wall that opened at his touch.  There she saw Cronos in one room, and Vilhylm in another.  Tryst she had already seen.  Satisfied, she went back to the open balcony.

The smell of freshly baked bread drew her attention to the table where an assortment of food was laid out.  Hunger drove her apprehension away, it would be much easier to deal with these things once she had a full stomach.  She sat and ate, the bread had nuts in it and there were fresh vegetables and fruit as well as a light and refreshing mead.

“Good to know you were concerned about us.”  Cronos said dryly from the doorway.

“It’s not like I was going to wake you from your beauty sleep.”  She said, “You looked just fine to me when I looked in on you not ten minutes ago.”

“Is that fresh bread?”  Cronos asked, “If it is I may just forgive you.”

“They have fresh apples and cheese and an amazing mead too.”  She said, “Come and get some before I eat it all.”

Before long, Vilhylm had arrived as well and they fell to talking about what they remembered of the battle.

“I saw you flying through the air and then I’m sure it was my imagination but it looked like you rode your sword down that thing’s back.”  Cronos said.

“Did you let it throw you first?”  Vilhylm asked with a grin, “I can’t see any other way you’d have been able to get that high in the air… but surely you wouldn’t have done something so reckless.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw you practically breaking yourself in half to lift a huge wave of mud to squish a few bugs Vil.”  Said Cronos, “How did that work out for you?”

“I was the first one to recover in spite of Tryst visiting me last.”  Callindra said, chuckling.  “I think maybe you two boys could learn a lesson or two from me.”

“Actually, it’s because we thought you had died.”  Vilhylm said, all traces of levity vanishing from his face.  “You didn’t see what happened as a result of your attack.”

“It was as though beneath its skin there was nothing but those insect things.”  Said Cronos, “They covered you, even though a small cyclone of wind seemed to form briefly around you, holding them off.  That was impressive by the way.”

“I don’t remember much past hacking the damn thing off at the knees.”  Callindra admitted, taking a swig of mead to hide her embarrassment and pleasure at her friends concern.

“It was a foolish, reckless, stupid move Callindra.”  Tryst said as he walked through the door.  “But it likely saved us all.  If you hadn’t stopped that thing… it was about to infect the Grandfather Tree with its disease and maybe kill Jorda as well.”

“Don’t be silly Tryst.”  Said Callindra, “Gods can’t be killed.”

At that point, the door opened and a swarm of Elven attendants descended on them.  Some took their armor and attempted to take their weapons as well, but Callindra wasn’t relinquishing Brightfang for anyone.  The rest of them took the boys off into one bathing chamber and her into another.

“Miss, you really should leave your sword outside, it’ll rust.”  One of the attendants said, frowning at Brightfang.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”  Callindra said, “I oil him daily.  He won’t rust while I draw breath and I won’t let him out of reach if I can help it.”

The elves looked at her skeptically, but made no further comment.  When she walked into the bathing chamber she began to see what they had worried about.  Instead of submerging themselves in a full bath, it seemed they drank copious amounts of water and then sat in a room with magically heated stones in the center.  Once the room was sufficiently hot, one of them began pouring water over the stones, releasing clouds of steam.

Sweat sprang from every pore and soon Callindra found herself getting lightheaded and feeling a bit dizzy.  Following the lead of the other women around her, she took a small cedar bough in her hand and dipped it in a bucket of cold water before slapping herself on the back with it.  The chill of the water and the sting of the branch kept her alert and actually felt quite good, relaxing muscles and releasing tension she had been hanging on to since the battle.

Once a good sweat had covered her, she took a curved piece of bone, the rib of a deer she thought, and used it to scrape her skin.  A surprising amount of dirt showed on the white surface of the bone.  When one of the Elves noticed her shock, she smiled knowingly.

“The sweat forces out what is in the pores of your skin, making you cleaner than any amount of scrubbing could.”  She said, “Then the plunge afterword will truly cleanse you.”

“I didn’t expect anything like this.”  Callindra admitted, drinking from a gourd filled with pure rain water.  “It seems like I will be exhausted from all this sweating though.”

“Come, allow me to oil your hair.”  The other woman replied, “With proper care your tresses could shine like mahogany.  Most of us are fair of skin and hair, yours is quite exotic.”

Callindra laughed in spite of herself, “Exotic is just another word for freak in the human world, and my hair is the least of the qualities I value.”

Finally clean and dried; the bath having ended in a shocking plunge into a pool of ice cold water, Callindra donned her freshly laundered clothes and polished armor.  After taking time to unwrap Brightfang’s hilt, polish all of his metal parts, oil the leather wrapping of his hilt and re-wrap it tightly, she felt like her ablutions were complete.  If she had to meet a Goddess, she was as ready as she was likely to be.

Her friends all had similar uncertain expressions on their faces as they emerged from the male side of the bathing chamber.  Even so, with their familiar gear on their shoulders squared and their backs straightened.  Whatever they were about to experience, they would do it at their best.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you all continue to fight beside me.”  Callindra said, looking at her companions.  “My brothers in arms… you are better brothers than any sister has a right to.”

Tryst laughed a deep bass laugh that came from deep in his chest, “Oh Callindra, you undervalue yourself at every turn.  You aren’t some accessory to us, you’re the heroine!  It was your action that defeated the monster and led us to victory.  Speaking for myself, I am honored to fight alongside you.”

“The honor is indeed ours.”  Vilhylm said, the midnight of his cloak a direct contrast to the pristine white and sliver of Tryst’s attire.

“You … you fight good.”  Cronos mumbled, “Don’t leave or things might get boring.”

“The Goddess Jorda awaits you.”  A voice ahead intoned formally, “She wishes to express her gratitude for the actions you took to defend her realm.  Please, approach that you may be announced.”

They entered a wide space that would have been a meadow had it not been for the spreading boughs of the incredible tree that rose above them.  Although it was still far off, Callindra estimated that it was nearly a thousand feet high and the trunk at least five hundred feet thick.  The branches above gave shelter from direct sun, and beautiful swards of green grass spread out before them.

The moment that she was brought beneath the branches of the Grandfather Tree, the Countess was awake.  The light of insanity shone behind her eyes, but she made no movement, watching the approach of a delegation of some import approaching from the direction of the tree.  She was quiet while Vilhylm lifted her from the back of the horse and she stood quietly while Latoran greeted the Elf man who seemed to be old.

He had slight wrinkle lines around his eyes and his hair was purely white.  For a human he would have looked just past middle age, but based on what she’d seen of the other Elves with their perfect skin and straw blonde hair he was ancient.  After a short conference with Latoran he turned toward them.

“I am Luaga.  I take it this is the patient?”  He gave Adbar a cursory glance.

“This is the Countess Adbar.”  Tryst confirmed, “I am Tryst Te’Chern, this is my brother Cronos.  These area Vilhylm and Callindra, my other companions.  We have journeyed far to reach you and to seek your council.”

They were interrupted by a guttural laugh from the Countess’s mouth.  “You fools have brought me here?  In spite of what remained of this vessel’s animal instinct that fought you every step of the way I have been brought here, to stand beneath the shelter of the first living thing’s arms.”

Luaga’s eyes widened in surprise, “Who is this that you have brought here?”  His eyes narrowed, “What exactly have you allowed to come into this most holy presence?”

“I will allow the blood of my servant to summon the things that must come.”  The same guttural voice shouted at a volume that made Callindra’s ears ring.  It made her vision blur and she was only barely conscious of Luaga incanting a spell and the Elves drawing arrows.

“NO!”  Callindra shouted, “Whatever she carries said it needs her blood!  We can’t allow her blood to spill here!”

The Countess’s wrists parted and her bonds snapped as though made of embroidery thread.  “My will shall NOT be denied!”  She shouted.  They watched in terror as she reached her hand to her throat and tore out the veins with her manicured nails.  Her voice shrieked impossibly high and shrill in pain and triumph.

Vilhylm fell to his knees, sobbing and trying to stem the flow of blood with his hands.  Tryst attempted to cast a healing spell, but it failed to take effect.  The bubbling laughter of the Countess echoed wetly throughout the clearing and the spreading pool of blood began to shine with tiny motes of emerald light.

“Get back!  GET BACK!”  Callindra yelled desperately, “Something’s happening!  Something terrible is coming!”  The winds flared around her and she drew Brightfang from his sheath.  Drawing on the well of power within her and focusing it through the carved stone on the pommel of her sword.  The very winds themselves gathered around her, lending her their strength and speed.

The tiny motes came out as a cloud of fireflies that glimmered beautifully in the twilight.  As they rose into the air, a massive hand of blackened flesh with veins of sickly green fire pulsing from within stretched from within the pool of the Countess’s blood.  The flickering green bodies of the insects began to land on anything that was alive.  Plants withered and died at their touch and when they touched exposed skin they brought pain.

The screaming began immediately, but Callindra was focusing on the monstrous golem that was pulling itself from the portal formed by the Countess’s lifeblood.  Its eyes were pits of emerald fire and even as it crawled free of the gore on the ground it raised its head and roared in rage.  More of the tiny insects streamed from its mouth, spreading death and pain wherever they landed.  With an answering battle cry Callindra leaped to the attack, Brightfang swinging in a perfect arc of silver.

–

“WAIT!”  Luaga’s voice was loud enough for Callindra to hear but she ignored it, instead springing forward to slash the monster across the hamstring.  Instead of the deadly strike she had been hoping for, she was greeted by a cloud of tiny glowing green insects.  They settled on the exposed skin of her arms and pain burst along them like she had thrust them into burning flames.

Callindra screamed in pain and summoned threads of Weave from the flat of Brightfang’s blade.  A blast of wind exploded from him, driving the bugs from her flesh and leaving ugly red welts in their place.  Stumbling backwards, she saw another shape emerging from the massive wall that was the trunk of the Tree.

“Your filth has no place here vermin!”  The figure said, and the words held Power that rippled across the clearing.

“Oh foolish Goddess.”  A dread voice rippled from within the pool of the Countess’s blood, “Manifesting thyself here on the Prime?  No wonder thou art so weak.”

Whatever the … Goddess? said in reply was in a language Callindra and her friends did not understand but it angered the golem.

“Then I shall CRUSH thee and BURN thy precious tree!”  It roared, the sound of it making their bones rattle within their bodies.  One step brought it close enough to swing a vast fist at the tiny form that stood defiantly next to the tree, but that blow never fell.

Branches sprang from the trunk of the Grandfather Tree to form a protective barrier between the Goddess and the monster while roots erupted from the ground to wrap around the golem’s arms and legs.  Callindra was vaguely aware of her friends attacking the insects however they could, but she was focused only on the monster in front of her.  The roots had dragged one of its arms down close to the ground.

Grinning, she ran forward and up the roots toward the golem’s arm.  Perhaps if the legs weren’t vulnerable the head would be.  Just before she reached the monster’s bound hand, the roots snapped and the hand flung into the air with the force of a catapult’s throwing arm.  Callindra flew skyward, surprised to find that she wasn’t afraid.  It was as though she belonged here, flying free.

The winds gathered around her, allowing some measure of control over her fall.  Instead of aiming for somewhere moderately safe or attempting to slow her fall, Callindra aimed for the back of the golem.  It had leaned down and was breathing out clouds of bright green insects onto the shield that protected the Goddess below.

With a wild shout of abandon, she plunged down toward the monster, placing her feet on the dull back side of her blade.  As she fell down towards its unprotected back Callindra drew upon the force of the wind that tore at her face and forced it into Brightfang.   Arcane Power exploded from her blade as his tip plunged into its flesh and she unleashed it into her enemy.

It roared in rage and pain, arching its back.  Gold light emanated from the Goddess in front and Callindra saw something flickering just behind the Golem’s knee joints that hadn’t been there a moment before.  She swung first left, then right, hacking through the cords of Emerald green light.  With a groan that made her teeth ache, the golem crumbled into pieces that exploded into thousands more insects.

Looking around, she saw dozens of Druids laying on the ground, covered in biting insects.  She fell to her knees, hundreds of the bugs biting and stinging, their poison burning in her veins.  The last thing Callindra saw was a beautiful golden radiance that seemed to be coming from everywhere and a calm, beautiful voice assuring her that everything would be fine.  The feeling of the myriad of tiny feet rending flesh accompanied her on her way to an uneasy unconsciousness.

Vilhylm took his belt knife and cut the Countess free.  “Are you unharmed my Lady?”  He said, smiling into her face.

Instead of giving the kind of response that might have been expected the Countess Adbar burst into bubbling laughter the moment she was freed.  Gasping for breath, she took his face between her hands and planted an impassioned kiss on his lips that lasted for much longer than propriety would allow for.

“Oh darling, I could withstand anything as long as you were the one to come and rescue me.”  She said, clinging to him with the fervor of a devoted lover.

Callindra turned away, feeling slightly embarrassed at the wanton display but caught concerned looks fleeing from the faces of the other two men.  It seemed her friends shared her discomfort.

“I think she is a bit ill.” Tryst said, peering into the Countess’s eyes.  “I think we might take a moment to ascertain her condition before we continue.”

In order for the priest to actually examine the woman, Vilhylm had to physically restrain her.  She writhed and moaned, burning with what seemed to be a fever only it was impossibly hot.  In addition, she was either insulting them with the vilest profanity or demanding carnal favors almost equally repellent.  Callindra and Cronos had moved aside, sitting next to the fire the men had started and going through their bags.

The only items of interest were small pouches of platinum and notes found on each of their bodies.  The notes simply said ‘Bring her back at any cost.’  There was no signature.

“Where’s Adbar’s keep?”  Callindra asked.

“I have no idea.”  Said Cronos, pulling his map from the protective oiled case he kept it in and rolled it out for them to study.  “I think we’re about here.”  He said, pointing his finger just north and west of the town of Maple.

“Isn’t this where we were headed?”  Callindra asked, pointing to the map.  “This says ‘High Forest’ and it looks like it’s less than a day’s ride away.”

“I think you’re right.”  Cronos said, “I thought it was a lot further away than that.”

“This is good news.”  Said Tryst, his face grave.  “She needs attention that goes beyond my capabilities.  I hear that the leader of the elves is a most skilled healer.”

The screams of the Countess grew even more shrill and angry, “You won’t take me to that accursed place!  I’ll rotting kill you first!”

In spite of her screams of outrage, they tied her to one of the spare horses and rode toward the forest.  The further in they walked, the more desperate Adbar’s screams became.

“Vilhylm, are you sure about this?”  Callindra asked, “She’s really hurting herself.”

He looked at the blood that was darkening the rope around the Countess’s wrists, her struggles having torn the skin.  “Stop it Countess, we are going to get you help.”  He said imploringly, “Please, the Elves can make you better.”

“I’ve had about enough of this.”  Callindra said, and before anyone could stop her she brought the heavy pommel of her sword down sharply on the back of the woman’s head.  She slumped into unconsciousness and Callindra checked the pulse at her neck calmly, as though she did this kind of thing every day.

The others were staring at her in shock.  “Callindra, wasn’t that a little extreme?”  Tryst asked quietly.

“She was putting all our lives in danger.”  Callindra responded, “Do you want whatever beasts lurk beneath these trees to be drawn to us because of her screams?”

As if in response to her question a group of Elves melted out of the underbrush, bows strung with arrows knocked to the string.  They were dressed in woodland greens, grays and browns and moved without a sound.

“Stay where you are.”  Their leader said, “You will not bring evil into the High Forest.”

“Haven’t we already entered into the Forest?”  Callindra asked, looking at the trees that surrounded them.

“No.”  He said shortly, “You have yet to enter the Domain of Jorda.  You have yet to enter the High Forest.”

“Then let us enter!”  Vilhylm shouted, “We have a sick woman!  She needs help!”

“She carries a taint that I would deign to poison this pristine wilderness with.”  The Elf said, “Take her and go.  Bring her to one of your mortal priests.”

“I am a mortal priest.”  Tryst said, “Whatever ails this Lady is beyond my purview, but beyond that I am on a mission from my Holy Order and I must speak with the Druids who reside here.”

The Elves spoke to one another in a language that sounded like water bubbling over rocks mixed with birdsong.  Finally the leader turned back to them with a grave look on his face.

“We will allow you to approach until the Goddess can decide if she is worthy of treatment.”  He glared at them, “If you insist on bringing her forward you shall be judged along with her.”

“That is a risk I will gladly take.”  Vilhylm said without hesitation.

“I think she is a risk, but allowing something to infect her like this and go unchecked is a far worse risk.”  Tryst said, “If whatever has taken root in her is allowed to spread it could mean trouble, even for your kind.”

“We will leave if we are unwelcome.”  Cronos said stiffly, “But we were told to come and speak with you by the Dryad Tyreen.  We have traveled long and through much danger to come here and I won’t allow that to go to waste.  There are things happening in the world that shouldn’t go unreported or unnoticed.”

Callindra looked over the Elves who were arrayed around them in a semi-circle.  “You haven’t seen them have you?”  She asked, “The creatures with the eyes of emerald fire?”

The leader shifted, a movement so slight that she would have missed it if she hadn’t been specifically looking for it.  His men didn’t move so either they didn’t have a clue what she was talking about or hadn’t heard her.  She was betting on the former.

“Come.”  He said, “My name is Latoran.  I am the leader of these warriors, the elite of the High Forest guard.  I will bring you to see Luaga and he will decide if you are to be shown out of our domain or allowed into the presence of Jorda.”

“That’s fair enough.”  Tryst said, and then turned to give Vilhylm a reassuring smile.  “I’m sure Luaga will decide to help her.”

“Yeah, because these others are so bedamned friendly.”  Cronos muttered.

–

They were led through a screen of thick brush and found themselves in a beautiful woodland that almost seemed manicured.  The trees rose far above their heads, seeming impossibly tall with trunks dozens of feet thick.  It looked nothing like what it had when they were on the other side of the screen of brush.

Callindra tried to conceal her surprise, but knew she had failed when she saw the smug look on one of the Elf archer’s faces.  Instead of trying to pretend, she decided to try and get some information out of the woman.  “Why?  How?  This is amazing!”

“Mortals tend to despoil things that don’t fit into their narrow perception of how things are supposed to be.”  The archer replied, giving her a frosty look.  “I don’t imagine you would understand as fleeting as your life is, but we have to take a much longer view of things.”

“What do you mean?”  Callindra asked, knowing what the Elf was likely to say.

“These trees are our home.  We must ensure they are here for us forever, as we live until our lives are cut short by unnatural means.”

“Death isn’t unnatural.”  Callindra said, “Everything dies eventually, isn’t that part of the whole circle of life thing?”

“I don’t expect a mortal to understand.”  The Elf said, “That is why we have ensorcelled the forest as we have.”

Callindra thought on that for a few minutes.  “If you don’t explain something, how can you expect someone to understand?”

The Elf woman didn’t respond and Callindra rode on in silence.  The concept of immortality was one she had never considered before, living the way she had made her see death around every corner and with the dawn of each rising sun.  She knew there was a limited time for her to be graced with life and every minute had to be lived to the fullest.  Living to an old age wasn’t something she had ever thought of.

“It must be hard for you.”  She finally said, “Trying to think of everything all at once and always worrying about making a mistake that you’ll have to deal with forever.  I can’t imagine living like that; someone like me can hardly believe the miracle of living to another sunrise let alone thinking of a thousand sunrises in the future.”

The Elf woman didn’t respond, but gave her a look that had slightly less condescension than it had before.  Well, at least that was a start.  With Elves there was no way she could expect to change centuries of prejudice in just a few hours.