Saga of Daie d'Malkin 6- Baptism of Fire

I wake with a cry of terror. Images of blood and fire flash across my mind. I find myself drenched with sweat, and out of breath. I take a moment to regain it. The vivid nightmare begins to creep out of my mind, and I am relieved. I have never had such a bad one, and I’m unnerved.
Once I have recovered, I gather a few supplies, and leave the tent. The glow on the horizon signals the oncoming rush of dawn, and I know that the others will rise soon. On my way out, I bump into Maron. Her long blonde hair is tucked back behind her ears, and her normally cheerful face is ashen. She’s wearing her normal clothes, a faintly pink tunic, and a pair of white breeches. Her entire outfit accentuates her figure, her slim legs and hourglass waist. I remember that one of the tenets of Sune’s faith is to make yourself as comely and attractive as possible. Maron certainly is no false priestess.
She wraps her wings around herself, to keep warm in the clammy cool of the dawn.
“Are you alright?” she asks, concerned “I heard a scream.”
“Its fine I just had a…” I stop. They already think me a child; a nightmare will only provoke them.
However, she guesses my final word, and finishes for me.
“Nightmare? Oh, don’t worry dear” she says, throwing an arm around me. “Everyone has nightmares. No-one will think any less of you for that. Come on; let’s get some food in you, that’ll make you feel better.”
She led me to the campfire, lit it with a spell, and quickly, a few pieces of bacon were frying over it, as well as a battered tin kettle full of tea.
After a few moments, she retrieved the tea, and emptied a vial of sugar she had liberated from a nearby pouch into it. She halved the drink, and handed me one, drinking the other herself.

I shiver in the cold, and she mistakes this as a recurrence of my nightmare. She gently wraps an arm around me, and pulls me close, rubbing my arm, and resting my head on her shoulder.
“Are you alright dear?” she asks.
“Mmm” I reply, too comfortable to talk. She’s so caring, I think. Like an older sister, but, she’s not much older than me. Must come from being a cleric of Sune. Heartwarders, I think they’re called.
“Are you still angry with Raven?” she asks, suddenly.
I sigh. “No, but I don’t know how to resolve this situation. I feel terrible. It feels as though there’s a hole in my chest.”
“Ah!” she sighs, knowingly, then changes the subject. We both know that pride won’t let either Raven or I back down. Still, Raven did, and I cast her apology aside. I know I’m in the wrong her, but I cannot apologise without losing face.
After a few minutes, I am feeling calm, and at peace. I can feel myself nodding off. She talks to me about trivial matters, on purpose, and this increases the sense of calm.

“Daie?”
A voice wakes me.
“Daie?”
I lift my head. Maron looks at me, smiling faintly. I’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. I straighten, surprised to find her arm still around me. “I’m sorry Mistress Maron.”
“Don’t call me Mistress Maron, Daie; it makes me sound like some madam.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Don’t apologise either. I’m joking. Don’t worry about falling asleep, either, it was my fault, I bored you to sleep.”
“I wasn’t bored” I protest.
“Of course not. The important thing is, do you feel better?” she asks
“Yes.” I smile, contentedly, resting my head against her shoulder again.
“Well, that’s good. Daie, will you do me a favour?”
After the kindness she’s shown me, I’d do anything. I point this out to her.
“Thank you. Would you go and speak to Raven?”
I freeze.
“Go and speak to her. Accept her apology.”
She can feel my hesitation.
“Daie, as a cleric of the Goddess of Love, I can feel things about other people, so we both know that you want to talk to her. Go and do it. It’ll make you feel better”
“A-alright, Maron.” I stammer, and she releases me from her arms as I stand up. “And, thank you.”
She smiles “It’s my job.”
I wave goodbye as I head towards Raven’s tent, and she waves back.

As I approach Raven’s tent, a wave of panic overtakes me. What if she shouts at me? I shake my head. Now that was childish. What if she shouts at me? Scary. I’m amazed that even my internal monologue can be sarcastic.
I knock on the wooden board outside her tent.
“Come in” her sultry voice sounds from within. I duck into the tent, and my eyes quickly adjust to the gloom. She is lying in bed, reading from a small book. She’s wearing a thin, silken, cream-coloured shift, with a low cut front. Her white hair hangs around her shoulders, and her blue eyes peer up at me. She lays down her book, and looks me in the eye. Something flashes through them. Fear? Replaced with a look of resignation.
“What do you wish, Daie? Have you more scorn to pour on me?”
I wave my arms, “No, no, Gods no Raven. In fact, I am here to apologise.”
Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops. “What?”
“I apologise for my disgraceful behaviour. My words were wrong, and I caused you distress you do not deserve. I am truly sorry.” Maron was right, this feels good.
“I accept your apology, Daie Vanya, and I hope you will accept mine.”
“I will, Raven d’Malkin.”
She sits up, and carefully watches me. Suddenly, she leans forward, and pecks a kiss on my lips. I almost faint. That feeling is back. It feels strange. I feel weak and light headed again.
She smiles. “Go and have some food, Daie Vanya, we shall talk more later.”
I leave her tent, and when outside, my knees buckle, and I almost fall.

Maron gives me a wry grin as I pass her. “Well?”
“You were right. I feel great. She…she kissed me!” I blush as I realise that I’m over-reacting. Here. Will she guess?
Maron nodded. “Is that so?”
“Yes. It was…nice.”
“I imagine it would be. So, what now?”
I panic “Well, a kiss means nothing, doesn’t it?”
She smiles knowingly. “It was your first, wasn’t it?”
Damn! She guessed!
She rises to her feet. “Here’s another for your collection then.” She kisses me gently.
I take a step back. “Erm…” Again, Daie, smooth.
“Don’t worry, a kiss means nothing.” She laughs softly. “As much as a dream.”
“My dream meant something.” I reply, carefully.
“And so does my kiss. You’re a good friend Daie, but don’t worry. A friend is all I want.” She sits, her good mood suddenly gone.
I’m confused. She notices my puzzled expression, and bids me sit next to her. I do so.
“I thought you have friends, Raven and Minstra for example?”
“Ah” she raises a finger “Those two are best friends. They share secrets they can tell no-one else. They have known each other for nearly five years. I have been in this company for just over one. They are my friends, true, but I feel different. They never share secrets with me. I’m left out when they talk. I have no-one I could call a best friend. Since I left home, left my family and friends behind.”
“Why did you leave home?” I ask “Avariel are not known for their sense of adventure.”
She laughs, a hollow sound. “Avariel are not known, period. Most live I their aerie, never leaving. I left because I was bored. I wanted to see new places, meet new people. But, I feel alone. I have no-one to confide in.”
Suddenly, our earlier positions are reversed, and I am comforting her. Strange how these things happen, I muse, as I take hold of her.
She’s sobbing. I feel uncomfortable with this crying woman clinging to my tunic. I don’t know how to react. Her wings are clasped tight to her shoulders. The wings are feathered, long white feathers with a faint blue tint. Her wingspan must be at least twelve feet. It occurs to me that I haven’t seen her fly yet. I wonder why.
“Because I’m alone when I’m up there; there’s no-one to talk to. I prefer to walk, at least I can talk to people then.” She replies through her sobs, when I ask.
I gingerly hold her as she cries; and then pat her on her wing. She lunges forward, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I hug her back, surprised at how hard she is holding on to me.
“Maron…” I begin “I’ll be your friend.”
She looks up at me, eyes full of tears. “What?”
“You need a friend. I need a friend. You’ve been so kind to me since I arrived.”
“Its my duty to be kind, part of Sune’s dogma.”
“Above and beyond, dear Maron.” I reply.
She buries her head in my chest again. “Thank you” I hear her muffled whisper.
I hold her for a few more moments, before she pulls herself from my arms. She brushes her lips against my cheek, then retrieves the now cooked meal from the fire.
She comes and sits back next to me, offering me some of the bacon. I quickly devour it, I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. She leans against my shoulder as she eats, more slowly than me, and much more daintily. I decide that she must still be feeling down, as she’s still leaning on me, so I don’t move away even though I’ve finished.
Once she’s eaten her breakfast, I gently nudge her upright, and stand up. I say my goodbye, and return to my tent. I want to wash before everyone else awakes. The rosy tendrils of the new dawn flutter in through the open flap of my tent, illuminating the interior. I unlace my boots, taking time to rub some feeling into my feet. At home… no, not ‘at home’. In Suldanessallar, I had ever worn boots, I had always gone barefoot. These ones weren’t even broken in, even though I’ve had them for nearly a year. As I had suspected, my feet are blistered. I’ll try healing them when I return. I remove my tunic, and the shirt I wear beneath it, and sling a towel over my shoulders.
As I leave the tent, she looks over, and gives me an appreciative whistle. I blush, and stagger down to the lake. I remove the rest of my clothes, bar undergarments, and leap into the water. I wash the sweat from myself, and leave the water. Dry myself as best I can, and throw my clothes back on. Looking back up to camp, I freeze as I see a great many figures sneaking up to it. Not humans, or any other race likely to be friendly, but I cannot see what they might be. I crouch, and use the skills I have inherited from my sylvan ancestors to sneak as close to the camp as I can. I see shadowy figures lurking the in woods. I creep as near as I can, and I catch a faint snatch of their guttural language. Orcs.
I swear as I realise that my sword is still in my tent. My keen elven eyes show me that Maron is facing away from the orcs, but she must be able to see them, surely?
Perhaps not. Her sweet voice carries over the wind, down to me. She is praying, and therefore is concentrating on her goddess.
I must do something. I need to get back into camp. The orcs are spreading out, circling a quarter of the camp. They probably intend to kill us in our sleep, it’s the only way that fifty odd orcs could defeat two hundred of us.
I decide that the best thing for me to do would be to return to camp, sneaking past the orcs, and raise the alarm.
I endeavour to do so, creeping through their line, using the shadows of the trees, and rocks. I skirt one large boulder, and am nearly back at camp, when a bird, startled by my approach, ascends into the sky, screeching.
I curse every bird born, in several languages, and dart into camp, hearing the cries of the humanoids behind me.
“ORCS!” I cry “To arms! We are under attack!”
I flash into and out of my tent, rapidly arming myself. A startled cry behind me alerts me to danger. Maron is under attack from four of the orcs. She grips her mace, and kills one. The second punches her, knocking her down, but her arm lashes out, taking it in the face, stunning it. The remaining two, however, come to stand above her, raising weapons.
I leap forward, shouting “Caela ie'lle”
I swing my sabre in a two handed grip, and the lead orc turns to meet the blade as it flashes at, and through his neck.
It falls, decapitated, spraying blood over my legs. I spin, and take another through the stomach.
By now, Maron has finished her opponent, but is being menaced by the fourth orc, but the camp has awoken. Raven and Minstra fly into view, each screaming warcries in their native tongues. The troops of the company have woken too, and the fifteen or so orcs are no match for nearly two hundred humanoids, angry at this interruption to their sleep.
When the last opponent is dispatched, my adrenaline begins to fade away, my thoughts return, and, as expected, my internal monologue begins again. Vanya, you just took two lives. I shudder in horror, and feel my gut wrench. A wave of nausea rises inside me, and I struggle to keep in down. I struggle to keep it in.
“Daie? Are you alright?” asks Raven.
In response, I stagger to the edge of camp, and am sick. Very sick. I’m covered in foul orcish blood, and it stinks.
I feel someone rubbing my back. A feminine voice coos, and makes other sympathetic sounds.
“Cough it all up, Daie”
It’s Raven.
I finish returning my breakfast to the world, and cough, weakly. She gently pats between my shoulders.
“Quite the baptism of fire for you then, Daie” Raven comments.
I finally stop coughing, retrieve a kerchief from my pocket, and wipe my mouth. I straighten, and turn, smiling apologetically.
“Don’t worry Daie, everyone reacts like that. Was that your first time?”
I’m feeling to ill to blush at that comment, but, my ever present mind does. Ooh, Daie, it chuckles.
“Yes. I mean, I’ve hunted, but that was the first time I ever killed a humanoid. “
“You did well. Two orcs in your first battle. I’m proud of you.”
The last four words bounce around in my head. ‘I’m proud of you’. My heart swells, and I cannot help a smile reaching my lips.
She purrs. “Good boy. Lets get you back, my young hero.”
My young hero. MY young hero. I almost swoon with delight.
“Careful there!” Raven laughs, taking me by the arm, and leading me back into the camp.
I am shocked to find my arrival greeted by cheers.
I turn to Raven, and she is grinning, deliciously. “You saved our entire company.” She kisses me softly on my left cheek, and nips at the skin before she withdraws.
Did she just bite my face?
“You saved my life.” Says Maron, stepping up next to me, and taking my other arm, and kissing my other cheek, thankfully, without nibbling on it.
As they took me back to our shared campfire, I decided that I could get used to this…




“Of course, it was then that I decided that I enjoyed being a hero, and that adventuring was the life for me. The company adopted me as their mascot, something I wasn’t entirely happy about, but there were perks to being Starshadows’s darling.
That was also the first time Raven showed her interest in me. I suppose I was too naïve to notice it then, but it became much more obvious later.
Maron and I became great friends, sharing all our secrets with each other. She really was like an older sister, teaching me many things.”

Daie d’Malkin, in conversation with Volo, Year of Unseen Enemies, 1600 DR.
Later published by Volo, as an anthology entitled ‘Ndengin’nosse: Tale of the Kinslayer’