Master of Flies

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The wedding went on well past midnight. It was anything but serene. Drums and flutes played frantic and merry tunes. The sounds of laughter were carried on the light wind for miles around. Ras Tayeden lay on the cool, dew touched grass and lazily watched people dance under the starry sky. He grinned as a twirl of white silk came into his vision.

"Don't tell me you're tired already Entarii."

There was a hint of challenge in the soft voice but it was filled with a profound happiness. Ras looked up at his delicate seeming cousin, Narys Tayeden, or rather Narys Jo'run, Ras corrected himself. She had been married to Faels Jo'run earlier in the afternoon. He grunted in mock weariness as he stood up to greet his delicate and beautiful looking cousin.

"Oh sit down!" the new bride said in exasperation, her smile ruining her false anger. "I can barely see your face from down here."

Both of them laghed lightly at that. In only two years, Ras had grown heads and shoulders above his cousin, not to mention most all his relatives at just the age of 15. Only the groom was taller than Ras at this gathering. The young man looked around with keen gray eyes at the field where the post ceremony feast had taken place. There were less couples dancing and most of the food and wine had been consumed. One by one most of the musicians stopped playing and joined the numerous guests in small talk. Dawn was only a few hours away. It had been a fun celebration while it lasted, but it was time for him to go and Narys knew it as well.

"I wonder when I'll see you again, Ras." his cousin mused in a light tone. But her eyes betrayed a slight sadness.

"Tsaerune is pretty far and I have my training besides." Ras sighed. "I doubt we'll ever see a larger gathering of Tayedens again for quite a few years."

Narys smirked. "Oh we'll see about that, Entarii, when you find a girl to settle down with. Did you even notice the girls making cow eyes at you all night?"

The young man shrugged uncomfortably but still smiled. He had been reluctant at first but after a draught of especially heady wine, he had danced with quite a few pretty girls. "When I do become Entarii, that's when I'll even consider marriage." He snorted lightly and added, "No one's going to shackle me just yet."

Ras ducked instinctively just as Narys' hand went flying to the back of his head.

"It looks like you got something practical out of your training." his cousin laughed.

They hugged each other then and said their goodbyes.

"Tell that Master of yours to dance a little more next time he comes to a wedding!" she added jokingly as she went back to the dancing couples and rejoined her new husband.

Ras breathed in the cool night air and stretched. The effects of the wine were wearing off and he felt a little chill. The wind ruffled his unruly shock of black hair and dried the light sweat off his sun browned skin. He walked off to a secluded grove of trees to change back to his travelling clothes. Ras left the fine blue tunic and silk pants lying on the ground. He wouldn't need them again for a while. Perhaps some beggar would chance upon it and trade himself a meal for it.

As he came back and looked for his Master, Ras bid farewell to aunts, uncles, and other cousins who he had lived with for most of his childhood. His own parents had passed away when he was just an infant. They congratulated him on his acceptance into the Entarri and wished him luck. Finally, he found the Master, deep in conversation with the groom's parents. The Master did not look that old a man. He had a head full of steel gray hair tied back into a ponytail but stood as tall as Ras, his body wider and packed with muscle. He moved with the grace of a 20 year old and his stamina was greater still. His face was stern to behold and the thick gray mustache did little to lessen the image.

But at the moment he was smiling softly as he congratulated the parents of the groom. Ras merely stared at him for a few seconds to get his attention. The Master was always aware of what went around him. He noticed the subtlest of glances and seemingly had eyes in the back of his head. The Master turned and nodded at Ras, indicating he'd be coming soon. As he made his own farewells, Ras readied their horses.

The sun rose in the east and shed its gentle light on the two travellers. Ras and the Master had left a few hours back and were now treading ground a steady clip. They hoped to make it to the Sadis district before evening.

Ras was dressed in the traditional clothes of a Entarii novice. A loose black shirt, matching pants, and a black travel cloak with cowl. A black shawl was wrapped his neck and trailed behind him in the wind as he rode. Strapped to his back was a short sword and a hunting bow. At his sides was a slim quiver of arrows and a hunting knife. The Master wore similiar clothes but of gray and white. He wore no cloak and his shawl was bright red. The only weapon he carried was a blackwood staff but if anyone had seen them, they would agree that the Master still looked the more formidable of the two. It was something in his relaxed yet straight backed posture, the calm black eyes as hard as steel, the cool confidence in which he held himself. As usual, the Master rode without a saddle or rein. His arms were folded across his chest and he guided the horse with only subtle flexes of his knees. True Entarri never needed such devices to ride horses effectively.

"Master," Ras asked, "Why must we hurry at such a pace? Surely the Wardens will not close the gate 'till late evening."

The old man looked back at the trail they were riding on and did not say anything for a while.

"I am making sure our shadow is moving as far away from your cousin's wedding site as possible." he answered finally in a deep, slightly gravelly voice.
Ras sat up straight in the saddle. "What!? Do you mean someone's been following us from the wedding?"

The Master raised an eyebrow slightly as he glanced at Ras. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"But Master!" Ras was almost shouting now. "Shouldn't we go back and confront them?"

"Calm yourself Ras." came a stern warning from the old man. "I have made sure our shadows did not stay at your cousin's wedding. I do not want those people harmed any more than you do. At least they seem to be more interested in us anyway."
The Master scratched his chin before he resumed speaking.
"I want them to get as far away from the wedding as possible. So far they move furtively. Let us trick them into believing they still have the advantage of surprise. When we are far enough way, we will turn the tables on them. Until then, we ride. Understand?"

Ras nodded reluctantly. The Master was right. Instead of panicking, he should have reviewed his tactics. It took conscious effort not to look back over his shoulder constantly for some sign of this stalker. He had to comfort himself with the fact they were far and away from his cousin and the rest of his family. Master and Pupil rode on for the rest of the day, pausing only to rest their steeds.

 

They rode low on their horses as they sought to avoid the whipping braches. The shadow had gained on them alarmingly fast as the sun began setting. Ras believed the Master was worried despite his unchanging expression. The old man had, without a word, led his horse away from the trail and into the deep woods where no paths lay. His student followed without hesitation, but still Ras was worried. The Master was usually a talkative man in dangerous situations, calmly describing various tactics and strategems to his pupil. Perhaps the Master's silence was for Ras' own sake. That did not lift his uneasiness however.

Whoever their stalker was, he was skilled. Somehow, the Master had detected this shadow of theirs, but since then it had remained quiet, following them silently and at a distance. But now even Ras sensed how close their pursuer had come. Neither he or the Master had glimpsed him. Not even a footfall had been heard. There was just that sixth sense. That extra awareness the warrior always had to alert him to danger. The Master had said they would confront this shadow, but he had now abandoned the plan. This stalker seemed much too eager for a nighttime confrontation.

"What do you think, Ras?" the old man asked softly. His gravelly voice startled Ras.

"Master, I think they are fae-born. No other could follow us so." he said in a half whisper. The Master only nodded, not in approval or disapproval of his answer, just as if he was adding it to his own surmises.

The fae-born were a valid threat. They resembled humans, but far thinner and delicate looking. They were pale as ghosts and seemed to glide rather than walk, thus their ability to keep up with riders. It was rumored the fae-born were the result of some blasphemous union between humans and the demons of lust, succubi and incubi. Whatever their origin, the fae-born were dangerous to any traveller. They attached themselves to certain people, their reason their own, and followed them doggedly. Witnesses who had seen others chased by the fae-born knew only this. If a traveller could not escape them, he was never seen in this world again.

And there were far too many disappearances in this area of the land to discount the fae-born.

Side by side, Master and Pupil raced through the ever darkening forest and only the rough breathing of their mounts disrupted the silence. Ras believed they kept a mostly northwesterly direction, but he could not be sure without the sun. He doubted that even one of the fae-born could track them through these pathless woods. But the sixth sense never died down. Something was still on their trail and it was not discouraged in any way.

Ras nearly crashed into the Master suddenly as the old man drew up his stallion. They both dismounted. Ras drew the jor'ai, a crystalline looking, one edged blade that was slightly curved. The Master sent his horse away with a pat and Ras' horse followed. They would come at a signal from the Master if needed. Right now, they needed the extra space if this confrontation ended up in a fight. The old man merely stood, arms folded across the sturdy chest. He was utterly at calm and there was a slight expression of disdain on his face as if he considered this a waste of his time. His eyes had a hard glint in them like steel.

Ras shook his head at the old man in admiration. Nothing fazed his Master, and Ras could only hope that one day he would be as cold and calculating as him in a crisis. Right now, the young man was anything but calm. The darkness and silence almost unnerved him. But he forced himself to loosen his limbs, unclench his hands, and sway slightly. This last action did calm him.

"Sway with the wind, move with the grass, lean with the trees. Feel the nature within you, let all else pass."

It was an old saying among Entarii, passed to him from the Master. The young man moved ever so slightly, imagining himself as just another blade of grass. But this blade was as sharp as the steel he held in his hands, he reminded himself.

 

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Their shadow appeared noiselessly. This was in itself rather remarkable as the forest floor had some dry twigs and leaves scattered about. But even more remarkable was the appearance of their pursuer.

The first thing Ras noticed was the almost chalk white pallor of the man. It seemed to glow in the relative darkness of the woods and caused the near total blackness of the man's eyes to stand out further. The pale rider was mounted on an average looking brown gelding and wore a loose black cloak. The man was, Ras supposed, handsome to women. He had long, chestnut colored hair tied back in a ponytail similiar to the Master. It framed an angular and smooth shaven face that was slightly feminine in feature. But it was locked in a stern and cool expression, rather uncannily like the Master's. With a few exceptions, this pale man might have been how the Master had looked in his younger days. The thought troubled Ras and he pushed it out of the way.

For several long moments, the Master and the pale stranger stood motionless, locked in fierce stares. Ras could have been just another tree for all he mattered to the two men facing each other. The Master stood tall with his head raised back. His broad shoulders flexed under the gray and white clothes and only added to his proud and strong stance. He was a rock upon which waves would only break against. He was immovable, an unyielding force.

Yet the rider opposite him was just as imposing. It was hard to judge from atop the horse, but the man looked to be half a hand taller than the Master thought his frame seemed leaner. His smooth face could not match the sheer intimidation of the Master's, but the man had a look that could freeze water. Violently, Ras suppressed a shudder.

"Heh."

The man smirked ever so slightly. A slight upturning of the corner of his lips. Combined with that soft utterance, he gave the impression that he considered the two men before him as nothing. His movements were small, economical, yet they gave every impression that this was a man who supremely confident in himself and his situation.

At that moment, Ras was sorely tempted to run over and deliver a swift punch to that smirking mouth. Instead he glanced over at the Master.

The old man was as usual, unfazed. In fact, a shadow of a smile was playing over his face as well. His black eyes still had that dangerous glint in them.

The pale man broke his staring match to take a glance at Ras, then swung his gaze back to the older man.

"Daithenon?", the stranger asked. His voice was deep, though not overly. There was a calm confidence that exuded with every word he spoke, no matter how brief.

The Master returned the stare and replied evenly with his slightly gravelly voice. "Daithon."

Ras' grip on his sword loosened slightly. The man was familiar with Old Entarrish. He had asked the Master if Ras was a "charge ward", a child taken under the care of the Entarri. The Master had corrected him, stating that Ras was a "dedicated pupil and novice", in other words, a warrior though new to Entarri ways. It was hard to translate directly from Old Entarrish to Common, but that was the rough meaning of the short exchange.

The stranger shrugged and took another look at Ras, this time measuring the young man's worth. He appeared to be contemplating something. Finally, he made up his mind.

"I need help." he said simply. "It would benefit all three of us greatly if you heed my words."

For several more moments, there was only silence. Each man was left to his own thoughts at that moment. A slight gust of wind broke the reverie.

The Master gestured at Ras to ease up. The pupil lowered his sword, though he did not sheathe it. With a slight tilt of his head, the Master made it clear that he would listen. But when the stranger started to speak, the old man held up a hand.

"First," he said, "You will answer some questions. Helping strangers is a dangerous occupation these days."

The pale man scowled but aquiesced with a startlingly similiar tilt of the head.

 

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