“We’re not sure of that either. But what we do know is Max and cutter had gone to Grey ridge to investigate sightings of the Black Boar tribe.
“Them damned Orcs are still poking around?” Rone asked, surprised.
“They didn’t find any there,” Tobias replied as they started walking again and continued through the village.
“Even if they were there, an Orc band would have picked a fight not stooped to poison,” Rone said, thinking out loud.
“You would think so, wouldn’t you? They had only been away a few days when Max’s horse came to the bramble gate with Max lashed to the saddle.
We got him inside, and Sagina started treating him. After a couple of days, he woke up. Said he had seen no sign of Orcs on the ridge, but someone was there, and they attacked him with a blow dart.”
By now, they had reached the main house and were standing at the foot of the steps when Tobias caught Rone by the arm.
“Rone, it was a DokalFae dart.” His words caused a lump to form in Rone’s throat.
“And Cutter didn’t make it,” Tobias added solemnly.
“What the hell are dark elves doing in Agnar? Rone asked angrily.
“We don’t know that it was them, only that it was one of their darts. Sagina has been testing it since max got back, trying to determine what poison was used.”
Just then, the door to the house opened wide, and Sagina WindRunner stepped out onto the porch.
“And I have finally figured out what it was.” She said in a proud tone. Sagina, like most elves, was beautiful. She was slender, and well built, with golden-brown hair and the deepest green eyes you could find. She wore flattering but modest leather trousers and a lowcut green cotton tunic that only made her golden-brown skin look even more alluring.
Strider smiled at her and started up the steps to hug his friend.
“Good to see you Sagina, I’m glad you were here to help him.”
“I wasn’t,” She replied with a frown.
“Thankfully, though, I wasn’t far away. A silver leaf tree told me what had happened.”
“Well, I’m glad you were close by then,” Rone said with another smile.
“What of you? What has the legendary HoloFae of the Thorn Callers been up to these past months?”
“Sagina, you know I hate that word,” Rone said with a scowl.
“Do you prefer half-elf? Because they mean the same thing.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“They don’t, and you know that.” He replied, a little annoyed.
Of course, she knew it, everyone did. HoloFae was the elven word for a half-elf. But to them, it means hollow-elf. As most elves, or Fae as they prefer to be known, think a half-elf is hollow. They believe they are halves of two races without being a whole of anything.
To Rone, it was just another example of the smugness of most elves. And to his dismay, Rone was even more unique than most.
He was the child of a human father and a dark elf mother. A rare combination indeed, though not entirely unseen. It was because of this unique union that made Rones' hair the color of grey steel, and his skin a golden brown that made him stand out from other DokalFae half-elves. Who typically had a dark grey complexion, with white or blonde hair.
Most Dark elf half-bloods derive from having a DokalFae father and a human mother. As Dark elves are notorious for their raids, and not just on human settlements. But on any race unlucky enough to get caught in their path. Many times taking the men as slave workers and the women as concubines.
What was unheard of, though, is the fact that Rone was born with the ability to use forest magic. Something that, as far as he knew. Had never happened before to anyone of dark elf blood. Half or otherwise.
Magic in Earthera is as diverse as the races of creatures that inhabit it. Usually learned only by mages after years of study and practice. But, once every three or four thousand births. Someone is born with a unique magical ability they can call upon once a day.
Those born with these unique abilities, also have a natural affinity for learning other spells of the same type. Learning in days what it takes most months to accomplish.
As their race decides each person's born ability, only Wood-elves and humans are born with forest magic.
Sun elves can heal using the rays of the sun. Moon elves read people's fate in the stars. And dark elves can call upon the shadows to hide or cloud the minds of their enemies.
But none are born with the gifts of another race. And most half-elves have no born abilities. Which has long been assumed to be the reason Rone was brought to the Thorn Callers when he was young. Only a born wielder of forest magic can commune with the trees of a forest, or seek to join the ranks of the Thorn Caller Rangers.
A group dedicated to protecting the forests of Earthera, and all those who choose to live within them. They are also the only ones who would accept the fact that Rone was unique without trying to exploit it. Or use him as a study piece for some mage’s experiments.
“I prefer to be called by my name,” Roan scowled. Which only caused Sagina and Tobias to laugh.
“Still touchy after all this time?” She asked, playfully hitting Rone in the shoulder.
“Just tell me what happened to Max, please?” He said, shaking his head.
“It’s chimera poison,” she replied. Her playful tone now turning sad and low, causing Rone’s heart to sink in his chest as he knew there was no cure for that.
Its effects could be slowed down, but eventually, it would kill him, and painfully.
He couldn’t even find the words to reply. Instead, he slumped down onto the top step of the porch. Max had been more than his commander and mentor. He had practically raised him.
When Rone’s parents found that his unique gifts made him stand out, they brought him here. Begging the Rangers to take him in. Max, being a gruff but good-hearted man, and more than a little curious as to how this little half-blood could wield forest magic. Agreed to take him on as his ward.
And so, before long, word of a half-blood Thorn Caller had begun to spread. Before long, his name was even being past on the lips of those inside many of the city-state kingdoms. Mainly from rumors about a forest wielding half-elf that sprang from a tree and ate grass or some non-sense. But still, people came to know his name.
Fang, sensing the emotions that stirred in his friend, came to lay his head in Rone’s lap. Nuzzling him as if trying to say whatever was wrong would be ok. Rone stroked his ears for a moment then rose to his feet again.
“Is he awake?” He asked, looking at Sagina.
“He is, and he has been asking for you.”
Rone brushed the fur off the front of his tunic, then motioned for the great wolf to wait for him here. He never had to speak the words, as Fang lay down next to the door. With a final deep breath to steady his emotions, Rone stepped into the main house.
Inside were several members of his order, Kellett Ravensmile, a wood elf from the thick forests of Esterle. Drake Talbot from the city of Crag Moor and even old Dirk Bansal from right here in Agnar was there. He greeted his fellow rangers and headed towards the back of the house, knowing from the vision the great oak had shown him exactly where his commander was resting.
He walked to the door of the room and knocked gently on the wooden frame. A raspy voice from inside bid him enter. He hesitated only briefly, then pulled the bronze door handle that released the door latch with a quick clicking sound
Inside, the room was quaint and well kept, with the smells of healing herbs and salves still lingering in the air. Max was lying comfortably on a straw bed, atop several fur blankets. Where he sat propped up against the cedar headboard. With a down feather pillow as his means of support.