Life reborn

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Post  Ark Noir on Sun Feb 20, 2011 1:00 am

A night saber stretched from it's nap, enjoying the sun filtering down from the branches high above. Something piqued it interest, making it crouch down, listening intently and scanning about it to see what was there. It did not notice anything out of the ordinary, but it did not like how something just seemed out of place. It did not notice the swift motion on a bush to the side, nor the flash and swish of a crude knife until it was embedded into it's eye up to the hilt. It died before it even hit the forest floor with a crunch of leaves.

It was silent for a few minutes, just as quiet and peaceful as before the sudden action. After the pause, as if time had forgotten to keep it's self going and was correcting it, the bush the knife had suddenly came from moved and twitched. A night elf, in ragged stitched leather rags sneaked out of the bush, keeping a wary eye all around. He was thin, but under his rags could be seen corded muscle, lean and ready to spring to action. After slowly making his way over to the corpse, the elf took the knife out of the sabers skull with a quick jerk, and wiped the blood off in the grass before sheathing it in its place in his boot.

He waved over to the bushes, where a younger, although no less strong looking night elf, came out with much less care than the elder. He eyed the older one with anticipation and a hint of wonder. "That was a great shot! It didn't even see it coming!" He said with an ecstatic glee. The elder of them took out a keen edged knife and started cutting at the fur, slicing large cuts of pelt out of the animal. "It was my intention. An animal at it's heart is still an animal. It should be given respect and killed swiftly and painlessly."

"But why would you do that? I can understand for saving the time and energy, but why out of respect?" A few more pelt sections were cut and stacked with the rest before the answer came out. "It is out of respect for nature, and what it gives us. It is hard to explain and describe, you have to experience it to understand it." The younger shrugged and watched the other finish skinning the stalker and start carving chunks of meat out. The task was done quickly, and the older sent the energetic elf back to where they came with the furs and meat. He disposed of the body with haste, into a shallow grave so scavengers would not have a chance to pick at it's remains.

The elf made great speed through the forest, back to where ever he sent the other, dodging over rocks, streams, anything in his path with practiced grace. He made it to a small, makeshift camp, with several other elves in similar scraps to his running to and from thick hide tents lashed between the trees around a central fire pit. One of the bustling elf spotted the new comer and waved him over. "Ark Noir, the hunter comes back! I can see from what Eloywn brought back, it was successful and without an incident." Ark regarded the elf, before replying, "It was easier than most. I had a lucky shot into it's eye before it could notice me." The elf chuckled, before slapping Ark on the back and leading him to one of the tents. "Always hitting your mark with those knives. Elune must have blessed you with the skill in a marksman several times over!"

Ark immideately shoved the elfs hand off of him. "Elune had nothing to do with it. It was my work and practice that made it, not some god." The other shrugged. "If you want to deny her, go ahead. Just get some rest, I know howmuch it really takes out of you going through the woods at your breakneck speeds." He wondered off, leaving Ark in front of the of the tents. He slid into it and settled down in a pile of cured furs, settling into sleep soundly.

It was a similar routine throughout the next few years, Ark hunting with Eloywn and showing his how to do as well as he did. It could not be seen with a casual eye, but there was a visible bond between the two. Ark kept a wary eye over Eloywn, and never left him for all that long. He was always around, and there to help him.

But life, likes it's change.

It was a day in summer, during a heat spell when most of the elves were out of the sun if they could be so. They all noticed when the sound of branches being trampled reached their ears, and looked outside their tents to see what was making the sounds. More night elves were entering the camp, but these wore finery, although simple, that would easily be worth several gold pieces each. All of them were adorned further with symbols of natural beauty, and carrying staffs that glowed with energy. They were instantly recognizable as the local druids. They were hated and scorned by the elves of the camp, as they did nothing to help them or lessen their burden; they just sat and had grand, expensive feasts, not even saving what was left over for those who didn't have anything to eat for that night.

They came to the center of the camp, written on their faces that they were uneasy about being in a place with so many hostile faces. "Where is the young elf by the name of Eloywn?" Silence prevailed until with a rustle Eloywn came out of his tent, with Ark in tow. One of the druids approached Eloywn, taking a moment to look him over before saying, "You have been found harboring druidic powers. You will have to come with us, and train with us." Ark stepped in between the two, eliciting glares from the group of druids. "Why would you need to take him? Why not let him decide his own fate, or at the very least let him train here."

"We cannot ignore one who can be a potential druid, and the area here is..." the druid glanced around the camp, "Inadequate. He would be treated well and kept safe, better than here." There were mummers of discontent from around the camp, making the druids glance about them. "That isn't a good enough reason, druid. If you want him to come along-" Ark stopped when he was gently pushed aside by Eloywn. "I will go with you." Ark stammered for a second before regaining his bearings. "But, Eloywn, why?"

He looked up at Arks face with a calming smile. "Then I can help you out, like you have done for me!" Ark opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he found out he had nothing to rebuke it. "I will come back every month to see you. is that ok, sir?" He asked, looking up at the druid. "If you must. But not for long." Eloywn cheerfully looked back at Ark. "See? I will come back! Every month, on this day! Ok?" Ark just nodded, a bit too struck with events to reply verbally.

So Eloywn left with a smile on his face and a promise on his lips.The next month was a bit shaky for Ark, and my extension most of the camp, to lose him in such a manner. But, one month after he was spirited away, Ark did nothing for the entire day, only waiting at the camp. But He was never visited.

Ark continued on, figuring that it was from the druids that he could not come. But the months turned into years with no sight of him, not even hearing about his whereabouts. Each successive month, Ark would be waiting, only to be greeted by the morning sun of the next day, not by his old friend. He started turning bitter and introverted, hardly talking to anyone. He began raids into the living area of the druids, looking for Elyown, and taking a few things from them for what they took from him. But there was no sign or scrap of him anywhere.

In a few years, Ark had completely separated himself from the camp and started living on his own. It worked well until wither came. It was said that the Lich King himself called the winter down upon then, but no one knows. Fate choose this time to twist a path onto one more straight.

Ark struggled against the root that held him, with him hanging upside down in a crevasse that that he had neglected to see in all the snow. It was unable to curl up and cut the root, with the crevasse being too narrow to do so. After trying many times to climb the walls to circle about and get upright failed, he took a rest, just hanging down from the root wrapped around his foot.

He rested for a long time, and just about when he was ready to try again, he heard chirruping from above. He bent his head over to see a small silver dragonhawk, peering down at him from the top of the crevasse. "What do you want?" Ark barked. The dragonhawk just stared curiously, then glanced at the root holding Ark in place. "Don't try it..." It seemed to pay no attention and pecked at the root repeatedly, until it came undone. Ark grabbed another root on the way down to stop himself from falling all the way down. He glared at the dragonhawk, that was looking pleased with itself. He huffed and climbed his way out, dusting himself off before walking away.

The dragonhawk followed, ever cheerful. "Leave me alone. I don't want you company." It ignored him and followed him all the way back to his camp, and stayed there. Ark made no attempt to stop it, and eventually accepted it. It was company that he never had for a very long time. Never judged him, never felt the need to leave or make fun of him. He came to just call the dragonhawk Silver, some times talking to it, and it listened better than any other being alive could.

The winter degraded into a healthy spring, for more than just nature. A heart melted from the ice prison it had chained its self in.And from that, it decided on one thing. It needed to be new. No ties to the past. Something new. Something new, that could only be found elsewhere. Reforged with the knowledge of the past, but an eye eternally on the future. Better than it was. Different. Greater. The rest, is simple history.

Ark Noir

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