Home By The Stream.

"Home by the river,

Right by our mother dearest,

We take a fern and pull it up,

And then we stream along,"​

Cielothar sat, legs folded in, as they were weaving dried ferns together in unison. Little children ran about happily with flower crowns adorning their heads. It was bright and cheery outside, with some wind elves singing along to the melody of a song buried deep in their pasts. Their harvest was nearly ready to be gathered, seas of grains and corns waving in the distance, but today was seen as too nice of a day to work the fields. After all, they did have all the rest of the season to work.

One after another, the Cielothar began to pick up a new tune. All at once, they passed off their completed baskets and began new ones, oddly synchronized among the plains.

"Mother nature takes the cord and makes us strong,

She guides our hearts to home and to love, and could never be undone,

So why is her beauty so beat up?

Why do so many choose to ignore her call?

We pray, Estel, we pray,

So that you may return one day,"
​

Their mood was sullen, news of the fallen Princes reaching their ears only a few hours ago. Fate seemed to be working against the peaceful nomads, as the Orcs began to rise up and destroy the defeated tribes. They had seemed to be marching straight for their settlement, straight for their lives.

Apart from the group stood a black haired Avanthar and an overly tanned Cielothar, taking care of a bumbling child who had scraped themselves. A waft of wind eased the young thing, letting their tears dry on their cheeks. Hie's father had been the one to take the young one back to the clinic, gingerly taking their hand and showing them off through the shallow stream. Brave young men had gone to fend their settlement from the Orc menace, staging an attack on their closest camp to them. Unlike the Orc, this settlement had a blessing from Estel herself. It surely meant that they would have victory!

The tall and strong looking elf looked over to the group, singing and chatting in the distance. It was the definition of a beautiful day, with many people soaking up the sun while they still could. The Elder stood in her hut, fanning her weary bones. While the Cielothar were a happy and joyous people, old A'quell'la had simply seen too much in her lifetime to even pretend such a happy demanor. She was the most knowledgeable woman with the most stories to tell, passed from one Elder to another. She knew how to read and write and how to paint with all the dyes you could gather- yet she was victim to many, many gruesome tortures at the hands of travelers and the like. A'quell'la wasn't fond of company, much less from Hie of all people.

Hie decided to stride over, grabbing a small frond at the stream's side to fan A'quell'la with.

"How are you, Hie?" A'quell'la asked, surprised anyone had decided to give her company on today.

"I am fine, friend. You seemed a bit under the weather, though, so I've come to help." Hie said, affixing the frond onto her wrist. She began to waft some cool air on the Elder's frail bones. "It's much nicer by the stream, and I'm sure we could snag a spot underneath the tree lining," Hie trailed on, slowly but surely helping the older woman lower herself to the dirt floor.

"Pah," A'quell'la sputtered, looking rather displeased with the notion of even leaving her tent. "It's much too hot, the children running amongst the fields should be victim to the sun in the sky! Bless Estel for sparing them today."

"A'quell'la, it is fine. The water cools them easily."

"The stream can sweep them away! That's what happened to Ea'll'jja, you know…" A'quell'la said, moving her eyes over to the field. She seemed to be in the storytelling mood at the moment. Her eyes were kind of glazed, but she finally nodded her head back over. "Ea'll'jja was the prettiest little child in the tribe. Her hair was golden, and her eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky. It was a day like this one- wholesome in its own right, but much more memorable. See, she and I were making flower crowns for some young boys, and I was even teaching her how to braid daffodils together. Those were always so tricky,

"The stream seemed small at the time, barely bothersome, but a storm seemed to be brewing up past the tree lining. Many mothers were calling for their children to hole up in their tents, gathering jars and laying them out to collect the rainwater like usual. It came time that our own mothers called us in, but Ea'll'jja insisted that we grab some more. There was the prettiest daffodil on the other side of the stream, so she went to fetch it. She had one foot in, when the stream surged up and GRABBED her. I cried for help, cried for my friend, but it had seemed like nobody believed me. Nobody,"

A'quell'la seemed distressed, giving a slight cough as she looked back in the direction of the children chasing each other.

"I am sorry, friend," Hie comforted her, pulling a stray gray hair speckled with white from A'quell'la's face. "No storm is coming, though. The skies are as clear as our future."

It kept on like that for most of the afternoon. The elderly woman complained, told a sad story, and pouted. Hie kept comforting her, though, trying to brighten her day.

Day quickly fell to evening, though, and the buzzes of the night beetles flickered around them. Lightning bugs chased around the now sleepy children who were returning to their family tents with weary eyes and minds. Moths darted close to the bonfire set up, but it remained empty. The light it provided was well enough for the residents of the camp who needed to head home with their freshly made baskets.

Hie helped lay the Elder back onto her straw bed, easing her gently down. It was only an instant until she was asleep, grumpily snoring along to whatever dreams danced in her head. Hie could only hope they were good things. Ready for some rest of her own, Hie'jja went to silently leave the tent and make her way to her own abode.

She was halfway there when the sound of approaching horses came through the fields. Hie was joyous at the approaching warrior Avanthar, eagerly jolting to the field side view and scanning their faces for her brother's visage. Maybe if she hadn't been so focused, she would have seen the equally foreign faces. Her heart raced, not spotting the familiar face in the sea of warriors. The reserve force that had stayed behind drew their weapons, mounting horses. They began to approach the new visitors, briefly conversing. Spare troops darted past a stilled Hie, ignorant of what was going on at all. Her mind grasped for the possible situation, assuming the foreigners were her own tribe.

A sudden bark of orders broke the calm peace, and arrows began to rain down on the crowd gathered at the edge. Shrieks filled the air as many were struck down in cold blood, hooves driving themselves into the dirt. Hie'jja slinked back, stepping back and then turning on a heel. Her eyes desperately searched for cover as their tribe warriors were taken down in the matter of an instant. Her feet pounded for her father's tent, narrowly escaping the violent intruders that seemed void bent on destruction. Fire began to claim the tents around her, seemingly making the stars jealous with their heat and light.

With her father's tent in view, Hie ran right for it. A hand, however, grabbed her upper arm and pulled her back. The smell of blood and horse filled Hie's nose a little bit too late, sickening and twisting her stomach into a scrunched up knot. Laughter like theirs wasn't pleasant, not at all. It was horrible!

"Don't run! Stay and fight like the rest of your kin!" The man taunted, pulling her arm further than Hie liked. "What are you? Chicken?"

Hie'jja coughed, choosing not to answer and trying to instead wrench her arm away.

"Come on, you're all going to die for a worthy cause. My tribe is the one who deserves to rule over all of you, every last stupid elf like you. Start crying and pleading."

"You're not a ruler, you don't have anyone to lead! Unhand me and leave us!" She cried, carefully prancing out of the horse's path.

"Your threatening could use some work," He uttered with a grin. "I suppose you'll never get to learn better."

The vicious man threw her down and raised up his horse, going for a killer strike down with the insurmountable weight of his equine steed, finally done with playing games.

…​

The rising smoke panicked the returning warriors into a frenzy, stirring up their battle worn steeds through the forest lining at a heightened pace. Haelmir flinched at the whooping, noticing the calls to be much unlike an Orc's. A new menace had arrived, destroying their home and setting it ablaze.

 

[Goldifish]

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