On the move

Sarafina wanted to climb the rope, but her left arm hung lifeless on her side, and even she wasn't so crazy to lift herself up with just one hand. She waited for Pegasus and Zagort's help instead. Once she was on solid ground, Sarafina noticed Pegasus was giving her an odd look. The muscular elf was frowning like he didn't know if he should scold or praise her. Zagort, a thin man with a jovial face, was way more straightforward.

"Are you alright?"He asked, concern showing on his face.

Sarafina nodded, though she couldn't really feel her left arm at all.

Zagort relaxed, evidently relieved, but Pegasus didn't fall for it.

He looked down at her arm and then up at her face, shaking his head with disapproval. But he didn't expose her with Pegasus, something she was thankful.

Zagort could be really sentimental, especially when she was involved.

"Sarafina!" Someone shouted, waving his hand from the pass entrance.

She shuddered when she noticed who was calling her.

Brabus.

If there was someone she liked even less than the deceased Nightstalker, she was his protegee, Brabus. He was the same person who always reminded her she had no place inside the tribe, sometimes even winding up his thugs when words failed to convey the message.

Brabus was a bully, but a devious one. He seldom acted in person and preferred to use others to attain his ends. The only person she wished he had died, one of the few that still lived.

The story of her life.

Brabus grew close, half dozen hunters following him. He showed off his best smile, the same smile that could make women of all age swoon. Because that was another problem with him; he was handsome---though in a cruel way---and charming if he wished to be.

Sarafina, on her part, found that smile just repulsive.

His eyes on the other hand...

They were pale green, glittering like two emeralds with the reflected light of the nearby fires. Oddly hypnotic.

Before she knew, Brabus had already closed the gap and was rubbing her broken arm. But it was a gentle touch, almost a caress.

"We should bandage this arm" His voice sounded mellow, reasonable. Until she remembered whom she was talking to and wiggled away. Brabus laughed, sounding deeply amused.

"Garluin" Kolvar hissed, hands balled as he stepped menacingly toward him. "You have no shame.."

But Sarafina barred his way.

"How many made it?" She asked, stopping Zagort from doing something he would have regretted later.

Brabus' cheek twinged while he tried to hide the cruel smirk warping his mouth. Sarafina had learned to know very well that expression, only the target wasn't her this time but Zagort. The young elf stared back, his hand reaching for the knife tied to his belt.

"How many?" She asked again, and from the tone of her voice, it was clear she had enough of the men staring contest.

When Zagort humphed and stepped away, the tension among the small group disappeared.

"The ones you see" Brabus answered, before adding. "I am sorry to say."

For sure he didn't sound sorry. Quite the opposite actually. He seemed to enjoy delivering bad news, or maybe he just liked making her uncomfortable. If that was the case, he succeeded.

Sarafina paled, her knees wobbling as she faltered. But she didn't fall, she wouldn't give Brabus that satisfaction.

"Barachel won't last till morning" Brabus continued like he was unaware of her reaction.

He pointed to an elf, not far in the back. She knew Barachel. She was close to forty years old; old for an elf, even older for a hunter. But that hunk of scorched flesh wasn't her. Sarafina could see the terrible burns on her body, the parts where the fire left just cracked skin on her face.

She shuddered. She could still feel the smell of burnt flesh and the screams, that screams would come back to haunt her later. But not now. For whatever reason, everybody was looking at her, in their gazes the same unshakable faith they had placed in the Nightstalker.

Her, not Sarafina.

"Can she be saved?" She asked Pegasus, trying to keep her voice steady when the only thing she wanted to do was to curl into a ball and cry. But it was Brabus the one to answer.

"She can't be saved. For her death will be...a relief" Brabus searched a word adapt to the situation without finding it.

There was no word for mercy, or compassion if that matters, in the Elven language. It was an empty word devoid of any meaning in a land where the only fate for the weak was death. Sarafina's tired mind struggled to decipher the meaning of his words. But when she succeeded, she wished she hadn't.

"You don't mean to..." kill her?

She swallowed. The words were stuck in her throat.

"I am afraid there is no other choice" Brabus answered, his face and tone emulating a compassion he didn't really feel but never ceased to fool his peers.

Sarafina watched Pegasus, hoping to find a different answer in the young elf's brown eyes. There wasn't. He slowly shook his head, his tight lips wavering like he wanted to give her a different answer. But he couldn't, no one could.

"I-I..." She stuttered, glancing at the faces of the survivors around her.

They were waiting for her decision. It was what she always wanted, to be accepted, listened. And yet, right now the only thing she could think of was running away, crawl into a hole somewhere and empty her stomach.

In the end, it was Pegasus the one to rescue her.

"I'll deal with it." He said, making a step forward.

"Pegasus.." She started to plead.

But to say, what? They couldn't wait here for long, and leave the woman alive, or worse, behind.

"I'll deal with it" Pegasus repeated, his gaze shifting toward Brabus. "And you will help me"

Pegasus wasn't tall, not for the elves standards at least. However, the muscles bulging from his chest and arms were unusual for one of his kind. He was solid like a bastion, and the simple look he gave Brabus was way more intimidating than Zagort's previous threat.

Brabus opened his mouth, likely to protest, but closed it as he saw the look on Pegasus' face. When Pegasus headed toward the wounded elf, he followed him. Most of the hunters looked away at that point, but not Sarafina. She had to see it.

Pegasus crouched down near Barachel, saying something to the wounded elf while he took out the knife. Sarafina flinched, feeling the taste of bile in her mouth when he slit her throat, but she kept looking till the end.

Then she threw up.

At that moment a sudden gust of wind lowered her hood, scrambling her hair. The survivors closed their eyes enjoying the momentary relief from the heat. But not Sarafina. It was a crisp wind, coming from the north, not the east, forecasting the winter's arrival. It screeched on the fissure of rocks and small caves of stone, like a wail maybe...or a roar.

Sarafina often dreamed about her first command, of the day she would be the one to take the decisions. It wasn't because she craved power or position, but simply because she wanted to be accepted, acknowledged for her talents and for once, not shunned for her looks. But leading this ragged bunch wasn't what she dreamed of. They were broken, their souls crushed by the weight of death and the horrors they were forced to witness. Not that it was surprising. Fifty hunters left the tribe in search of food, and merely twelve were coming back.

What really surprised her was that only the weak and young survived. It was like a breach, a rupture of a principle deeply engraved in the collective minds of every elf. Only the strong survive. An unwritten law more than a maxim repeated over and over to the elf children since the day they were born. Yet, there was no veteran left in the small company toiling on the hillside. Sarafina, Pegasus, Zagort, and Garluin who was the oldest, but even they were merely younglings still waiting to become full-fledged hunters. The others were just children, and little was expected from them except to watch and learn.

"Sarafina" Zagort called, drawing her attention back to the present.

He ran to reach Sarafina and Pegasus in the vanguard, three or four hundred steps from the rest of the group. The young man was slim and his features sharp like many elves, but there was something soft in his brown eyes. The innocence of a child, untainted by the harshness of the Tenerifesea. He didn't seem dependable but sweet like a younger brother or a puppy following her around and wagging its tail.

"At this rate, we won't reach the village before dusk." Zagort said, turning his head back.

The elves were shuffling their feet on the stony soil, their eyes hollow.

Sarafina nodded absentmindedly. But then she noticed both Zagort and Pegasus were looking at her and realized what that meant.

They are waiting for orders. My orders.

It was strange, but for better or worse, she was in command. Sarafina cleared her throat, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to endure the dull ache in her broken arm.

"We need to set out camp. Pegasus..."

"I'll scout the area." He preceded her, his words practical and short like he didn't want to waste any more time with pointless words.

Pegasus started to pick up the pace, but Sarafina stopped him, her hand holding tightly on his forearm. He lifted his eyebrows, stared down at her hand, then up at her face. But Sarafina was looking down, suddenly very interested in her shoes.

"Only..." She hesitated, her lips tight as she slowly looked up, meeting his gaze, "Don't go too far. We need you."

"I won't." He struggled to smile like he wasn't used to it.

Pegasus had a square face, average for the most, even rough for the elves standards. But when he smiled, he looked like a completely different person from the brooding shadow he usually was. Sarafina looked at him startled. This was the third time in eighteen years that she had seen him smile. She wanted to look at that "phenomenon" for some more time when she heard someone clearing his throat.

It was Zagort.

"I should go." Pegasus said, and the moment was over.

He reverted to his usual self, hurrying to scout ahead. Sarafina followed him with her eyes until he disappeared from the view. Then she sighed, turning to look at Zagort.

Something passed on Zagort's face as he stared at his brother retreating back. A frown maybe, swiftly replaced by a caring expression when he looked at Sarafina.

"What is it, Zagort?" Sarafina sounded annoyed.

But if he noticed it, he didn't show it.

"We may have a problem." He said instead.

Another one?

She followed his gaze and grimaced. She had to agree with him. That was a big problem. It was Brabus.

"He wasted no time before starting to recruit children for his little cult." Zagort muttered.

Sarafina scowled. She saw Brabus walking close to an elf girl, a hand on her shoulder as he whispered something in her ear. It was Sienna, the youngest among the small group, barely thirteen years old.

"This was her first hunt." Zagort said quietly from beside her.

Sarafina shook her head. It'll take a miracle to forget what happened. Most likely she'll be scarred for life.

Brabus was using that, enticing her when she was most weak. He was a master at that.

"He coped quickly with the grief." Zagort said.

Sarafina glared at him, but just because he was talking too loud.

Besides, Zagort was right, this wasn't a man grieving for his mentor's death, but someone planning something. She became certain of this when Brabus turned - probably realizing she was looking at him - and smirked. He said something to Sienna before heading directly toward Sarafina. When he was some steps away, Zagort came forth, putting himself between the two of them.

"What do you want?" Zagort glared at him, arms crossed as he attempted to look threatening.

Brabus stared at him like he was looking at an insect, his gaze slipping after him to look at Sarafina. Then he smiled, smugly, with that intrinsic air of superiority she hated.

"I have something to tell you."

"And I suppose it's just a coincidence that you waited for Pegasus to walk away before doing that?"

Brabus' jaw twitched, "I think you'll want to hear this."

He tried to flaunt that signature smile of his, but it had lost its luster.

Sarafina sighed, "If you want to talk, talk."

Zagort looked back at her, doubt appearing on his face.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"I am." I think.

"Didn't you hear her?" Zagort barked, stepping back at her side. "Talk, if you must."

"Very well then." Brabus took a deep breath, "Sarafina, daughter of ashes. The people have chosen."

Sarafina stiffened. Daughter of ashes. Daughter of no one. The epithet hurt, but it wasn't the reason she was nervous. She recognized these words, they were part of a specific ceremony. An investiture.

"Don't..." She started, but Brabus was still talking.

"They have chosen you." He said, and his words were repeated like a chant by the others.

They started to converge on her, forming a circle with Sarafina at the center. Then Brabus knelt in front of her, head down, his arms stretched forward and his palm upwards. Sarafina stopped breathing when she saw what he had inside his hands. It was the Nightstalker's ring. The symbol of his title. It was made of obsidian, black and opaque inside Brabus' hands.

"You can't do this." She whispered.

"The people have chosen." Brabus repeated, the ceremonial words weighing on her like a boulder.

"Not all the people." She countered.

"I am the Nightstalker's heir." Brabus replied, a bit of his innate arrogance leaking out.

"But you aren't the Nighstalker."

Sarafina was wary. The entire situation felt wrong. Why was Brabus so hellbent on yielding a title which was rightfully his? To her of all people? It made no sense.

Brabus opened his mouth and closed it, a cunning expression appearing on his face.

"Maybe not, but I can still nominate you. And after what you did with the Grutt, do you really think someone will oppose?"

More than one, actually. She knew her tribesmen well, and no matter what kind of feat she achieved, the chances she had to be elected were nonexistent.

"You are a hero Sarafina." Brabus continued, "You saved all of us. And like I said, the people have chosen."

His arm described an arc, pointing at the people around her. They were nodding, smiling: something close to devotion in their faces. Her lips trembled, a wave of emotion sweeping through her as she realized they really wanted her to lead them.

"Just accept it." Zagort muttered.

She tried to force back the tears threatening to come out from her eyes. She failed. So she bent over to hide them, her trembling fingers reaching for the ring in Brabus' hands.

When she touched it, when that black polished stone was inside her hand, she took a glimpse at Brabus' face. He was smiling.

Her breath caught in her throat and she felt like one thousand snakes were crawling on her skin. That wasn't the expression of a person who just yielded his title to a woman he loathed, but the satisfied smile of someone who achieved his goal. It was gone when he stood up, replaced by a mild and generous expression, his hands joined on his chest while he watched her. He looked like the image of someone selfless who yielded his title for the greater good.

"You deserved it." Zagort said, his words followed by a chorus of congratulations by the elves around her. Sarafina answered with a half smile, but her heart wasn't in it. Not entirely at least.

She kept staring intently at Brabus. She had a bad feeling, the impression the show just started. It became a certainty when Brabus raised his hands, warning the others to stay quiet.

"I have just one last request." He said, raising his index finger. "From the former Nightstalker's successor to the new one."

"You little..." Zagort started, his head whipping back to look at Sarafina. "You don't have to listen to him."

He was wrong. Sarafina could feel it when she looked at the faces of the elves around her, detected the expectation in their gazes.

"I have to" She whispered.

Brabus had just sacrificed himself. She had at least to listen to him, even if she had the impression everything he had done so far was in preparation for this precise moment.

"What is it that you want?" She asked, her voice toneless and low.

"Me? Nothing." He shook his head. "It's not for me that I'm asking for, but her" He pointed to someone at the far edge of the circle.

It was Sienna, like a frightened mouse stood alone on the sidelines. She was small, way shorter than five foot, her unruly coppery hair like a formless bush surrounding her scared face. She hiccuped and seemed to grow even smaller when everyone turned to look at her.

Sarafina looked at Brabus, confusion evident on her face.

"I want you to protect her." He clarified. "Both her parents were hunters who died for the tribe. And now, because of the Grutt, she even lost her brothers, the only family she had left. She is the youngest among us, and she is alone."

One could say a lot of thing about Brabus, but he was a consummate actor, capable of captivating the crowd like no one else. Everyone - Zagort included - was eating out of his hand, waiting for his words, to hear that perfectly modulated voice narrate the next part of the story.

"Of course I'll protect her." She said, choosing her words carefully. She was sure there was a trap somewhere, but she couldn't see where. "Like I would protect every hunter under my command."

But Brabus shook his head.

"No, Sarafina that's not what I meant. I want you to personally guarantee she'll be safe. Just until we are back to the tribe, of course." He added like it made any difference.

Sarafina's lips parted, while she was too shocked to formulate an answer. But Zagort didn't have such problems.

"Are you mad?" He half shouted. "How can you think she..." He began, but Sarafina interrupted him.

"...I'll do it."

Zagort looked at her like she had gone crazy.

"Sarafina you know what means. You know what..."

"I know" She cut him out.

Oh, she knew, she knew all too well. If she promised to protect her, she was honor-bound to do so, even at the expense of her own life. It was one of the oldest and most sacred of the elves' vows.

That's why very few people dared to swear it. Failing to uphold the vow meant to become lower than a beast inside the elves' society, as Barabus knew well.

However, she really had no other choice. She saw what kind of effect Brabus's story had on the survivors. But above all, she saw the look in Sienna's face, the hopelessness, and fear in her eyes. After seeing that, how could she refuse?

"Fine then" Zagort sighed, his shoulders dropping like he gave up. "Do as you like."

"I'll do it." She repeated.

"You swear it?" Brabus asked, his face unnaturally serious.

Sarafina nodded, very slowly.

"I swear."

Brabus looked around him, his eyes dwelling on every single elf like he was taking notes of the hunters nearby, the witnesses of her vow.

Then he smiled, "Well then. You lifted a burden off my shoulders. I can rest well now that I know little Sienna is safe and sound." He said and then walked past her, followed after a while by the others hunters.

Sienna came for last.

"Thank you." The small elf said to her, though Sarafina had almost to read her lips to understand what she was saying. Then Sienna bowed, hurrying after Brabus.

"That guy."Zagort said, shaking his head. "He doesn't miss a chance to make himself look good."

But Sarafina had something else in her mind.

"Do me a favor and keep an eye on Sienna." She said to him, her eyes staring at Brabus' retreating figure like she wanted to dig a hole in his back.

Zagort furrowed his brow. "Sienna? Not Brabus?!!"

Sarafina shook his head.

"Sienna" She repeated.

She wasn't sure why, but there was something off about what Brabus said at the end. Something ominous.