Through the Rift

[Aelric Shadowmane]

The elf hesitated at the edge of the village. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air. Smoldering fires continued to burn amongst the ruined buildings. Perhaps a dozen homesteads, all burned and tumbled, lay before him.

Aelric did not pause to look for survivors. There would be none.

He knew there would be no survivors because there had been none at the three villages before. Each had been like this one. Burnt to the ground. The livestock slaughtered. The people either slain or dragged off in chains.

What warranted this wanton disregard for life? What evil strode the land with such malice?

The elf feared he knew the answer. Aelric fingered the ring that adorned his right hand. He reflected back on the events that had brought him here. The battles with the wraith. The final encounter, or so they had hoped, with the one called Jenia. The escape of seven wraiths through the rift in the Ward of Gondar.

Xenograg and the others had been in full agreement. The wraiths had to be hunted down to prevent their return to Rhy'Din. The sorceror was needed in Rhy'Din. Along with his allies, he would seek to repair the rift completely. He could not be spared for the hunt.

The elf had taken it upon himself to journey through the Ward. With the assistance of Xenograg, the elf had presented their cause to the man named Chris Graziano. The wraiths had escaped through the rift in the Ward. In order to pursue, the elf also had to cross through.

While the wraiths could move freely through the rift, the same was not true of others. In order to follow, the elf needed the assistance of one of the Baron rings that had been bound into the Ward. A side effect of their binding had given the bearers of the rings the ability to move through the rift.

It was the sorceror's hope that the rings, once on the other side of the rift, wherever that might be, would help to heal the fractures in the rift. Once the fractures were healed, the Ward would be healed. Or so they all hoped.

Aelric did not know when he stepped into the rift with the 7th Baron's ring where he would find himself. They had speculated the fractures opened onto multiple planes.

The elf circled wide around the village, searching for the trail beyond. The trail of slaves and raiders that exited the burning village was simple to find. Could there be a malevolence here like that of the wraith? With so little regard for life? Aelric suspected he trailed one or more of the wraiths in new hosts.

His course was clear. He must pursue and eliminate the wraith from causing further harm to this realm.

The elf set out on the road, following the tracks so brazenly left behind. He only hoped he could catch them soon. Before too many more were lost.

[Aelric Shadowmane]

Following the tracks was a simple task. What the elf had not expected was for the raiders to suspect they were followed and to plan an ambush.

The elf woke with a start. Lurching upward, an immediate vertigo afflicted him and the bile rose in his throat. Aelric opened his eyes and peered around in a panic, unsure where he was or how he had gotten here.

"Easy strangeling. Have a care, or you may reopen your wounds. It's wonder enough that you still live."

"Where...where..." his voice cracked, his throat was dry. It felt like it had been many days since water had coursed his throat.

"Where are you?" the voice came again. "That part is easily enough answered. You are in the home of Garyn of what was once the village of Adrian's Crossing."

"Who?" Aelric managed to rasp out, as he searched out the person that was attached to the voice. His vision remained cloudy and the elf started to move his hands to his eyes.

"Careful, there's ointment in your eyes to help their healing. You'd best avoid touching them for now." And the voice came closer. The sound of water sloshed within a container. "It sounds as if water would do you good. Here, drink. You can ask more questions after."

Aelric accepted the direction, too weak to resist. The brim of a cup reached his lips and the elf drank thirstily. "Not too quickly, you'll not want to sick it all back up." The elf understood the words, but felt too clouded to do more than accept their wisdom. Slowly he accepted water. After several sips he allowed himself to lay back on the bed. If he were in immediate danger, he was ill-fit to oppose it.

"Has the nausea passed yet? At least the fever has broken." A hand pressed lightly against the elf's forehead, checking. "It's a wonder the wounds you sustained didn't kill you on the spot. To still live by the time I found you is a miracle."

Aelric fought for memory. What had happened? A battle. An ambush. The wraith-held had set a trap for him, one the elf had walked blithely into. Why did he still live then? A faint memory eluded him, the wraith-held's words flickered at the edge of his memory. They had left him to die. An itch of memory stabbed at the elf.

In a panic, the elf felt with his thumb at his fingers. The panic eased. The ring was still on his finger.

The voice came again. "Aye, you still wear it." The elf puzzled over that. "How do I know what you were checking for? In your fevered dreams you spoke of many things. I am guessing the ring is important. Are you a lord in the lands from whence you came?" The voice retreated a step or two. "No, no, do not answer. There will be time for questions later. For now, you should rest again."

The fog around the elf's thoughts seems to thicken. "Yes, the water was laced with a mild herb to help you rest. Be at peace though, I mean you no harm, and you are safe. Sleep, and rest, and when you awaken perhaps we can get some broth into you."

Aelric's thoughts began to drift away. Why was he still alive? Was it the ring, as he had conjectured in days past?

The answers would have to wait. Sleep overcame the elf, and his thoughts slipped away.