"The Betrayal of Amaranthe: Chapter 3" by Mercedes A Boggs

Chapter 3

The sun glowed orange over the line of deep green trees as Ana and Falin set up camp.  It had been a quiet day filled with small talk to help pass the time as they traveled the long miles.  After starting a fire near the tents and tending to the horses, Ana brewed a potion to help her bear the pain of her broken rib.  They were a distance from the nearest cleric, so she had to rely on what nature provided.  The red root of an Affraneti tree would dull the pain, though its taste was awful.  The crushed leaves of the Quasanar, a rather unimpressive orange flower, quickened healing; and the caps of the small moss-green mushrooms that grew at the foot of the Banben tree would relax her muscles, still tense from the fray.   Just for good measure, she added a pinch of ground Salla bark.  Even as she sprinkled the sweet, woody dust into her mortar she could hear her father’s familiar words echoing in her head. 

“Moonbeam,” he called her affectionately.  “You’re little additions waste time and may lessen potency.  You have to stick to the basics,” he would scold.  Ana laughed to herself as she added an extra pinch of Salla.  A draught was useless if the person couldn’t get it past their lips due to its horrid flavor. 

After quaffing the unpalatable drink, she retired to a nearby hillside to watch the sun slowly descend behind the trees. The sunset was beautiful.  Oranges and pinks flowed like watercolors into blues and purples turning the sky into an abstract masterpiece.  Falin came over to join Ana as the last sliver of sun sank behind the horizon allowing pin-pricks of light to shine through the darkening sky. 

“How are you feeling?” Falin inquired looking at her with concern.

“I’m fine.  The tincture I prepared has started to work.  I feel pretty good,” she smiled.  They lay on the grassy hill gazing into the blanket of stars.  Away from the cities, it seemed as though the sky was a dark blue field covered in the winter’s first snowflakes.  The wind was silent, caressing them with only a warm breeze like soft breath on a lover’s cheek during an embrace.  Ana could feel Falin lying close to her.  As he inhaled the sweet night air, his arm would brush hers. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Ana whispered breaking the silence.  “Viewing such splendor, it’s sometimes hard to believe that evil can exist in a world so stunning.”

“You’ve very naive.”  Falin remained staring at the sky as he spoke.

“Again, your compliments are forthcoming.”  Ana quipped sarcastically.

Falin ignored her, and continued.  “You see a sunset and think it symbolizes good in the world.  But it’s just a sunset.  It will occur everyday, whether we’re here on not.”

“The sun, stars, and moon shine on the good and bad alike indifferent to the machinations of the evil or the aspirations of the good, and it will continue to do so despite my menial existence; but do you think a creature of evil bearing would sit and contemplate their beauty.  It seems to call out to those with true hearts to forget the transgressions, forgive the transgressors, and remain hopeful for tomorrow.”

 “Forgive and forget, huh?”  Falin asked skeptically. “Wouldn’t a lesson learned from foiled foes prove more beneficial than selective amnesia?”

“Erudition often wins out over idealism.”  She smiled astutely at Falin who couldn’t repress a smile in return.

“You puzzle me, Anastriana Galanodel,”  Falin said his smile growing wider.

Ana cocked her head.  “Why is that?”

“You present such a basic façade, the independent woman, defying her family and society; strong, clever, but distant.  I know there’s more to you.  I sense more beneath that well rehearsed exterior.”  He grinned at her with a knowing gleam in his eyes.  “You defy the station to which your gender has placed you to pursue this career; which, though well suited to you, proves more dangerous to you than its normal practitioners.”

“More dangerous, eh” Her words seemed a challenge to Falin to dispute her adeptness. “Are you to lecture me about protecting my virtues behind castle walls?”

“Not at all,” he answered earnestly.  “I pity anyone that underestimates you and treats you as a trophy to be had.”  Ana smiled widely at his genuine admiration of her skill.  “Still,” he continued.  “I do wonder how you came to hold such an unorthodox position.”

“The same station you spoke of, which condemned me to a lady’s life also allowed me to move beyond it.”  Falin leaned forward showing his interest in the story to come.  “My father is the consummate ranger, as was his father before him.  The males of my family have been serving in the position of palace ranger for many generations.  My own father fought in the Ba’dul wars along side the king,” she reported proudly.

“But how did that afford you such leniency?” Falin questioned.

“My father was to train his son to be an heir to the position.  This son would be the next palatial ranger, guide to the king and the denizens of Alturia.  He would inherit the title and holdings of the family Galanodel.  He was, unfortunately, never born.”  Ana’s voice spun a web around Falin skillfully ensnaring him in her story as few bards could.    “I was the only child born to Galen and Jessa Galanodel,” Ana continued “a disappointment I‘m sure, since a son was so desired¼ so expected.”  Even from Falin’s poor vantage point, he could see sadness gloss over Ana’s emerald eyes.  “My father’s desire for a child was not sated by my birth.  He tried for years for a son to no avail.  Though no luxury was kept from me, I still felt myself competing with a nonexistent sibling for his affection.  I would follow him around emulating his every move trying to prove that I was better than any son he could have had.  Because of my youth and his desire to mentor; he fostered my love of nature and my interest in swordplay, even stealing me away from lessons in etiquette much to my nurse’s dismay.  Yet, even as my knowledge and skill increased, I could feel a void growing within him as if he knew our games could not last.  He realized that a son was not in the plans for him and apprenticed a boy from a nearby village named Elan Noiralc.”       

“The man you travel with now?”  Falin interrupted.

 “Yes.  He was nearly half a century older than me when my father took him on.  Old to start an apprenticeship, but my father felt he had great potential, and he did.  Elan excelled at the sword, but he fell short at the skills of the woodlands having little patience for the quiet wisdom required.  I, however, still studying at the side of my father and Elan, developed skills that rivaled those of my father.  He could no longer deny my heirship to his position.  He propositioned the king to make an exception for me, to allow me to carry on in the honored position when my father could not with Elan ever at my side, as a body guard, of sorts, I suppose,”  Ana finished.

“But why would the king allow you, a female, to hold the position when this country’s mores dictate feminine subordination?”

“It wasn’t always like this.  The previous king, Gadazandar, started it after the death of his wife.”

“Yes, I know the story.  She died in one of the last battles of the Ba’dul Wars.  He wanted to prevent others from feeling his anguish, so he forbade women from participating in any activity that may put them in harm’s way.”

“Yes, but King Jocylenus has always disagreed with that silly rule.  Unfortunately, the people fear change; so I don’t foresee it changing anytime soon.  Luckily for me, the King and my father are very close friends. He trusted my father’s judgment during times of both war and peace.  When my father said that I should succeed him, the King knew he spoke truthfully and not out of affection for me.”

“That’s impressive,” Falin said stirred by her tale. 

“Not really, just one tale among many; but what of you, Falin,” Ana asked.  “I still know nothing of you, not even your last name.” 

Falin smiled.  “There’s not much to tell,” he eluded.  “I, too, work for the king.  I am apprenticed to the High Mage Ahriman, though, much good it will do me,” he said aside.

Ana caught his comment.  “Why won’t it help you?  I’ve met Ahriman; he’s very powerful.”

“That I cannot argue,” Falin conceded.  “But he and I do not share the same magic.  He may know it quite well, but he’s never felt it.  To him, it is a worn, leather tome that crumbles beneath the careless touch.  To me, it is a catharsis that wells up from the core of me, coursing through my very veins, and exploding from me.  There is very little, indeed, that Ahriman can teach me.  He feigns ignorance of our differences making me do inutile exercises repeatedly under the guise of teaching.”

Ana and Falin fell into silence again.  In the distance a pack of wolves howled at the brightly glowing moon.  Fireflies flitted around the sky like shooting stars. 

“I…I’m sorry about that,” Falin started quietly.  “I know you don’t want to here me complain.  You probably regret asking me.”

“Not at all.” Ana turned on her uninjured side to face Falin.  “You can’t help what you feel passionately about.”

“No, I guess not,” he smiled up at her.

“So,” Ana continued gazing down at the reclining mage.  “I’ve heard you speak of no god, nor do I see any religious symbols about you.  Has no god proven himself worthy of your devotion?”

Falin laughed.  “Your quick wit and spirit, Ana, must keep them on their feet at court.  You are a sharp contrast to the mute women in their doe-eyed muliebrity giggling behind their veils of insincerity.”

“I’m not sure others see it quite like that.”

Falin laughed again.  His laughter came so freely.  Ana was unaccustomed to people acting so carefree around her.  For commoners, her station intimidated; for nobility her profession offended.  Even her relationship with Elan was tainted by his promise to her father to protect her.  Miryam was the only other who laughed freely around her;  Ana realized how much she cherished relaxed conversations such as these; ideas shared between equals; communicated by friends.

Falin’s laughter abated as he began to answer her.  “I do wear a symbol of my faith.”  Falin said as he sat upright on the motionless hillside.  Solemnness overcame him as he rolled up the sleeve of his robe covering his left forearm to reveal what appeared to be a branded symbol.  Ana had to move closer to Falin to see his arm.

 Black as pitch and smooth, the symbol twisted over the bronzed skin of his arm one half mirroring the other except for the center, which held a recognized glyph of warning. 

“What is that?”  Ana asked intrigued, brushing the hair out of her face as she leaned forward to see.

“It’s the Mark of Lõpt.  The god of chaos.”

“You branded yourself?”

“No.  I’ve had this since I was a child.”  Ana looked at him questioningly.  “I lived in a small village.  The people there were myopic in their views.  They didn’t understand the untamed nature of my magic.  It threatened their orderly way of life, so I was marked to warn people of my powers.  At first, I despised this mark, the people who put it there, and the god it represented, since it set me apart from the others of the town; but I came to embrace my differences and to understand the pervasiveness of chaos.”

“Your parents allowed you to be marked this way?” she asked in amazement.

“My mother was young and had little control over her own life, let alone mine,” he said sadly.  “She was only following the traditions that had been passed down for centuries, ones she had learned from her parents.”

“You speak of her in the past tense.  Is she¼?”

“I don’t know,” he lamented.  “I left there so long ago it’s barely a memory to me now.”

“And what of your father?”

“I never knew him,” he answered abruptly.

“When¼why did you leave?”  Ana’s curiosity produced a steady stream of questions.  Falin sighed.  “I’m sorry,” Ana said quietly.  “I’m prying too deeply.  I just find it all so captivating.  You don’t have to answer anything else.” 

“You have been more than open about your past, Ana, the choice to share these things with you is mine; it’s just sometimes difficult to talk about it.”  Ana smiled warmly at Falin.  “I was still very young, hanging to my mother’s apron strings, when King Jocylenus and his mage, Ahriman, came to Dorasay.  The king saw something in me, some potential, I guess.  He had Ahriman ‘train’ me as Ahriman calls it.  There, within the castle walls, I taught myself to gain control of the energy surges, to harness the magic.”

“Is it difficult?  To control it?”

“Even now, I’m sometimes surprised by what happens,” he said in a confiding tone. 

“And Lõpt, he gives you this power?”  Ana turned her attention back to the symbol tracing the intricate design on the silken skin of his muscled arm lightly with her finger.  Falin shuttered as her warm, soft touch sent chills through him.

Ana looked up abruptly.  “Did I hurt you?”  she asked pulling her hand away.

Falin took her hand and brought it close to his lips reverently kissing her fingertips.  “I don’t believe these hands could cause pain.”  His golden stare left her breathless.

“To those who provoke me, they’re actually quite deadly,” she whispered still trapped by his gaze.

 “Should I, then, fear you?”  he smiled slightly, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Never.”  Her head shook slightly reiterating her answer.

Falin lowered her hand and held it at his chest.  His other hand brushed a hair from her cheek before softly cupping her face.  She closed her eyes reveling in his warmth as his face drew nearer to hers.   His lips brushed gently against her lips stealing her breath from her.  He kissed her tenderly as he returned to his lying position pulling her over him. 

Falin held Ana’s hand tighter to him.  She could feel his heart beat faster under her sensitive fingertips adding to the excitement of the moment.  Falin desired her and she him; and for that one passionate moment, that was enough to eclipse her promise - no her father’s promise - to Arathyn.  Falin released her hand as he encircled her waist seeking to pull her closer to him; but Ana pulled back abruptly as Falin’s hand brushed over her wounded rib.  He pulled back to gaze at her.  Her eyes watered with pain, but a smile graced her lips. 

“I’m sorry, I was careless,” Falin apologized.

“It’s not your fault. I had completely forgotten.” She tried to catch her breath.

His golden eyes scanned her face and a wide grin grew on his.  “You leave me speechless, Ana,” he spoke breathlessly shaking his head.  He began to try to express his emotions, but he could not find words that described what this extraordinary elven woman did to him.  He could only laugh at the absurdity of the situation.  He, a sorcerer of the king, a master of words, left without them because of one girl.  Somehow Falin knew this would not be the last time his tongue failed him in the face of her beauty.

The passion of the moment had dissipated; but Ana and Falin both felt the stirring of something greater than just their newly found friendship.

They lay on their backs, hands entwined, staring at the stars.  Falin turned his head to face Ana, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.  “Perhaps we should get some sleep.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.”  A hinted sadness sat in her voice.  With the moment gone, her responsibilities and promises returned accusingly to mind.

Falin stood, missing the tone, offering a hand to help Ana to her feet.  They walked to their tents, leaving the campfire burning to ward off night creatures.

“Good night, Ana,” Falin said as he lifted the flap to his tent.

“Good night, Falin.”

Falin awoke to the sound of someone rummaging through his packs.  He cracked his eyes ever so slightly, trying to feign sleep so that he could know his opponents before confronting them. 

Hairy hands ripped at his backpack scattering its content across the dirt floor of his tent.  Cold black eyes invaded the pages of his spellbook; and teeth, moss-green teeth, dripped foul smelling Ba’dul spittle onto his face.  Falin weighed his options quickly fearing his growing discomfort would cause him to act rashly.  The tent was too small.  He could cast one spell before they realized what he was doing and moved to stop him.  The Ba’dul hovering over him leaned closer sniffing him animalistically.

“Tuli, exa.  Tuli, na,” he chanted, his lips barely moving, his words inaudible.  He concentrated deeply on the spell and ran through its flowing movements in his head.  Before the Ba’dul realized what transpired, Falin concluded the spell, only not to the conclusion he sought.

The blast that shook Ana’s tent causing her to leap to her feet only moments earlier was now accompanied by the scent of burning Ba’dul hair.  She donned her leather armor quickly before emerging from her tent to find the top of Falin’s tent aflame.  She drew her swords.  The absurdity of the scene had not dulled her huntress’ senses.  She had spent years learning about Ba’dul from her father during her childhood.  Her training allowed her to deal with them in any situation, and she had yet to find a situation where killing them was not the answer.

Ana crept around to the back side of the tent opting for the element of surprise.  Lit by the flames above it, the Ba’dul cast odd shadows on the canvas.  Ana found a Ba’dul-shaped shadow and drove her sword into its darkness.  Her other blade tingled eagerly in anticipation of the kill.

Inside the tent, the Ba’dul that had Falin in a death grip tensed suddenly before releasing him and slumping to the ground.  His blood and his life seeped quickly from a wound in his back.  The two remaining Ba’dul within the tent exchanged concerned glances before the larger shouted commands to the smaller.

“Go!  Check!” Falin deciphered from the Ba’dul’s grunted words.  The small Ba’dul started to argue but stopped abruptly when the larger one glared nastily his way shifting his axe threateningly.

What foolish creatures, Ana thought to herself as she watched the Ba’dul emerge nervously from the tent.  Why they would split their forces was beyond her, but their stupidity was her advantage. Sheathing her swords, she silently pulled out her bow and a stone-tipped arrow.  She deftly took aim nocking the arrow and firing in one smooth, rehearsed motion.  She had been using the bow almost as long as she could walk and had long been an expert marksman.  Once more her arrow flew true. 

The remaining Ba’dul stood at the tent’s door awaiting his companion’s return.  He stared at the exotic elf opposite him watching him closely prepared to disrupt any spells he might attempt.  His tense wait ended with the “thwang” of a bowstring and a heavy thud.  He looked again at Falin realizing that the elf was his only way out.  His long, pasty arms reached for Falin as a ray of pure energy slammed into his body.  The Ba’dul’s fear and desire to survive overcame the pain that he felt from Falin’s spell.  His large hand encircled Falin’s neck, and he dragged him from the tent. 

The Ba’dul hoisted Falin by the throat using him as a shield as he left the tent edging toward his fallen companion.  Falin struggled against the vice that held him unable to breathe through its meaty grip.  Ana lowered her bow unwilling to risk the shot.

“Drop him, Ba’dul.  Your death will be quick,” she promised in the Ba’dulish tongue.

 The Ba’dul looked uneasily in the direction of the voice trying to glimpse the unseen attacker cloaked in night.  “This elf die with me,” he threatened tightening his grip on Falin’s neck.  The last thing Falin saw before passed out was Ana emerging from the flickering shadow of his magically flaming tent.  

When Falin awoke, he found Ana standing nearby.  She was being held in front of the large Ba’dul whose hand rested on her shoulder.  Her intense determination flared brightly in her eyes. 

“Where is ring?”  the Ba’dul asked.

Though Falin’s thoughts were clouded, he still acted quickly enough to try to conceal the ring he wore on his left hand.

“What ring,” he replied groggily as he stood to face the Ba’dul and Ana.    Ana stared deeply into Falin’s eyes as if trying to convey some unspoken message that Falin could not understand.  He wondered why she stood there held only by her shoulder. 

“You are one foretold, no?  Give to me ring,” the Ba’dul continued pressing.

Falin stood confused.  “One foretold,” he began to ask but Ana interrupted.

“If these beasts want it, you cannot give it¼” Her protest ended as her teeth clenched shut in her efforts not to succumb to the body-rending pain that coursed through her body weakening her legs.  The Ba’dul grip tightened on her shoulder holding where she stood.

“Now, elf,” he yelled his patience depleted.

“I don’t have it,” Falin returned defiantly.

“Then find it.”  The Ba’dul thrust his concealed hand forward, and Ana’s head jerked back.  “Or you die next,” the Ba’dul smiled.  Ana’s eyes echoed with pain and fear as she struggled to meet Falin’s gaze.  His confusion faded to horror as he followed her descending glance and caught the moonlit glimmer of the bloodied metallic blade, which pierce through the front of her leather armor.

The Ba’dul released her shoulder allowing her to fall to her hands and knees.  Falin ran over to where she had fallen; all thoughts of revenge on the murderous Ba’dul were temporarily supplanted by concern for his friend.  Her right arm buckled in her agony, and she fell weakly to her side fighting for breath.

“Falin¼” she whispered weakly through her tears.

“Ana, I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”  Falin fell to the ground taking her carefully into his arms.  “It was me.  They didn’t want you.  It was me.”  Guilt overwhelmed him.  “What can I do?  How can I help you?”  She shook her head weakly gasping in ragged breaths.  “No.  I can fix this.  Just tell me how.”  A single tear fell from his frightened eyes.

“Sword¼” she whispered.

Falin looked at the sword jutting unnaturally out of her back.  Its hilt gleamed familiarly in the moonlight.  It was his sword handed down from his father that leeched the life from his companion. 

“No,”  he cried in disgusted recognition grasping its golden hilt.  He took a deep breath and pulled it from her trembling body; she let out a weak whimper.  The sword fell from his hand; its ring as it hit the stony ground was a death knell.  He collapsed to her side once more gathering her tightly in his arms.  Her small body shook again as he tried in vain to stop the interminable bleeding.   He realized that he was going to lose this girl, the kindred spirit he’d found.  He hadn’t appreciated the depth to which their relationship had grown in their short time together, but he fully understood his loss.

“Ana, please, you can’t leave me, please.”

Ana’s eyes slowly began to close, and her breathing became shallow and uneven.  The tears he had been holding back in his show of strength began to well in his eyes and stream down his face. 

Her lids drooped shut; her skin cooled.

“Don’t close your eyes, please.  I need you here with me, Ana,” he begged her knowing he could no more stop the tides from changing.  He pulled her closer to him whispering into her hair trying to hold her fleeting spirit there by force.  Ana’s body went limp against his.  Falin closed his eyes and buried his face deeper into her spiraled brown locks.  He rocked her softly - back and forth- as shuddering tears wracked his body and on his hand, which cradled her head, the golden ring glinted accusingly at him.  His anguish overcame him in the darkness of the night, and he let out a grieving, guilt-filled wail that shook the distant mountains on the horizon.

Falin awoke from his fitful sleep in a cold sweat greeted by the scent of stale wood smoke.  The tent he laid in was not his own.  Ana’s tattered backpack sat against a canvassed wall, her cloak formed a pillow for his head.  His own damaged pack sat next to him.  Falin left the tent quickly remembering the events from the previous night.  His eyes darted around the empty campsite searching for Ana. 

“Ana?  Ana!”  He walked quickly over to the campfire left burning last night, but there was no sign that she had been there.  “Ana!”  he yelled into the forest panic tingeing his voice.  A crackling noise just beyond the nearby bushes alerted him to someone’s approach.  The spell he was reciting fizzled as Ana calmly emerge from the woods carrying various shapes and sizes of plants and fresh meat.  Her arrows in the quiver on her back told of her morning hunt.  She smiled when she saw him.

“It’s a good thing I was finished hunting.  All that noise you were making scared any prey away for miles.”

Falin ran up to her catching her in his strong embrace.  “Thank the gods you’re alive!”

“Well, of course I am.”  Ana laughed at him in his flustered state.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The Ba’dul.  They¼ you¼” he stumbled through the barrage of thoughts and memories in his head finally stopping to hug her again.  As he did, he golden ring caught his eye; and he pulled it roughly from his finger.  “This,” he held up the ring.  “This is what they wanted.  This is what cost you your life.  Damn him!”  Falin threw the ring to the ground.  “And damn this ring.  I should have known everything he touched was cursed.”

Ana placed her gear by the campfire and bent down to pick up the intricately gilded ring that landed at her feet.  The ring was beautifully detailed and exuded an intense aura of power despite its delicate design.  Two dragons met in the front both standing open mouthed.  Held within their mighty jaws, a dark amber stone glimmered in the sunlight.  Ana’s eyes followed the dragons’ bodies around to the back of the ring where their two tails stood entwined.  She walked over to kneel in front of Falin who had gone to sit on a log near the campfire.  He held his head in his hands.

She laid her hand on his knee offering him the ring. 

“Keep it.  I don’t want it,” he said pushing it away from him.

“You can’t mean that,” Ana said sensibly.

“I do,” Falin replied stubbornly.

“Well, then, I will cherish it always.”   Ana placed it on her thumb, the only finger it would fit.

“No,” Falin started in alarm.

“You want it back already?”

“No.  You just shouldn’t wear it.”

“Why not?”

“That ring belonged to my father.  Aside from an old sword, it’s all I have of him and all I’ve ever known.” Falin looked at the ring Ana held and shook his head with a bitter laugh before meeting her inquiring gaze.  “He probably cursed it when he forsook my mother’s love.  I don’t want his mistake to affect me as well.”  He held out his hand awaiting the ring.  “Here,” he said removing an amulet from around his neck as she returned his ring to him, “this will protect you when I cannot.” 

“I don’t need protection, Falin.” 

“I know, but I want you to have it anyway, as a token of…of my affection.”  Ana blushed.  He placed the chain bearing an obsidian colored stone around her neck. 

She smiled warmly at him.  “Thank you.”  Falin held the ring in the palm of his hand unsure of what to do with it.  “What did you mean ‘it cost me my life’?”  Ana asked watching Falin flip the ring agilely between his fingers.

“A dream only.”  Falin stopped fiddling with the ring remembering his dream vividly.  “I dreamt that Ba’dul had attacked our camp looking for this ring.  All of my spells misfired.  They killed you because I lied and said I didn’t have it.”  The guilt Falin felt in his dream welled up again.

“I don’t remember them asking about a ring,” Ana started casually.  “Of course, I didn’t talk to them much,” she smiled. 

“It was real then?”  Fear crossed Falin’s face.

“Except for my death, yes.” 

“But there are no bodies, no sign of a struggle.”

“There wasn’t a struggle; there were only three of them,” Ana laughed.  “I buried their bodies this morning after I finally extinguished your tent.  That’s why you were in mine.”

“If that was all real, then more will follow to find the ring.  I have to leave.”

“I doubt they’ll send more, but that’s fine.  Where are we going?”  She watched Falin slide the ring onto his finger.  Falin took both of Ana’s hands as she stood.  “I’m endangering you.  You shouldn’t be with me.  They’ll track the ring.  Stay here, where you‘ll be safe.”

“But¼”

“Please, Ana, just for a day or two.  I’ll return then.  You’ll be okay here alone, won’t you?” “Would you stay if I said no?”

“If you truly meant it, I would; but I know how capable you are.”  Falin smiled.

“Go then, Falin, if that is what you feel is best,” Ana relented.  She turned and attended to the fire cooking her catch from earlier on.  She then sat on the log and began to repair and clean the arrows that lay at her feet.  Falin watched her a moment before turning back to the tent.  He gathered his possessions and exited once more. 

“I’ll be back in a day or two.”

“I will be here.  Safe journey to you, Falin.”  Falin nodded his head in thanks and started off down the forest path.

Ana watched as Falin disappeared behind the sea of green leaves at the path’s bend.  She sighed heavily before throwing down the arrow she was working on.  She toyed with the amulet he had given her.  “¼As a token of my affection¼;” she remembered his words and smiled.  Her smile, however, faded from her face at the thought of Arathyn.  She would have to tell Falin of her engagement to him.  Her promising ceremony was just a week away, during which, she would be officially betrothed to Arathyn in front of the other nobles of the kingdom.  It wouldn’t be fair for Falin to find out that way.  And what would Arathyn do if he found out about her actions with Falin?  He would be honor bound to challenge him.  Yet, somehow, all of this seemed secondary to the feelings growing within her.  The gentle touch of Falin’s hand against her cheek, the soft warmth of his lips as they met hers, all of this was so new to her.  Why did she have to destroy, perhaps, her one chance of love?

Ana was uncharacteristically preoccupied when the tall hooded figure approached from behind her.  She, therefore, had no time to react when a large hairy hand forcefully held a strangely scented cloth to her face.  She managed to utter only a muffled scream before she succumbed to the impending darkness.