Seeking Darkness

The grey fog hung heavily around her like a wet wool cloak. The mist mingled with remnants of smoke from dying campfires and formed a curtain that made it impossible to see anything around her. Her skin glistened with dampness. The emerald green grass at her feet was a stark contrast to the colorless air surrounding her. She glanced around to get her bearings before she moved. In the distance, she knew that the trampled grasses of the field gave way to the thick forest. She stood poised for an attack that she somehow knew was coming. She gripped the leather bound center of the quarterstaff tightly and her fingers to ached. She heard a splash and blindly swung at the sound. Shadows darted about her, obscured by the fog. Those shadows seemed to occasionally contain sickly yellow eyes. One sword blow then a second connected on her body before she responded, she felt tremors in her arms as a sword impacted solidly with her stout oak staff. Her battle-heightened senses warned that an enemy rushed from behind. She spun to face the new combatant and used the momentum of the turn for added power to the blow that struck her opponent. She crouched slightly and planted her feet in the slick mud. Somewhere nearby she became aware of her companions and watched with horror as the last fell. Then thousands of yellow, bloodshot eyes focused on her as a circle of enemies slowly pressed toward her. A shadow passed above and a bolt of lightning ripped the sky asunder; with a deafening roar, the horde overran her. As she cried out, Jenna of Moontree bolted upright in her bed and looked around in a moment of confusion. Her mind raced as she tried to focus on her whereabouts. She fought for every breath as her heart hammered in a wild attempt to break free from the bonds of terror that encircled her chest. Her bedclothes were soaked in sweat and the air was stuffy with the rank smell of fear. Every muscle felt as if she had just fought the horde in her dream. The familiarity of her own room registered as she labored to rein in her galloping heart and gasping breaths. Was it a nightmare or a vision of the future? Her gift of clairvoyance was sketchy. As Jenna lay back in her bed and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts mulled over the dream. There has not been much activity in the area, she thought to herself. Unwanted creatures rarely wandered into the forests of her people. Those that did were met by elven scouts and turned away. Even with these assurances though, all of Jenna’s instincts still screamed that something was not right. Her mind raced considering this as the wind began to pick up outside her shuttered window. The idea that she might drift back to sleep surrendered, she turned up the flame of the oil lamp at her bedside and walked to the window to open the shutters. The air was sweet with impending rain. Most of the houses in the elven village were dark. The wind bent tree branches low, lightning flashed in the distance and she listened to the thunder for a few more moments, a powerful storm was approaching. Jenna closed and barred the shutters against the storm winds. “Odd,” she thought, “the weather seer said nothing of rain.” She went to the other windows of her small cottage to be sure that everything was fastened tight. She reached the kitchen window just as it began to rain. The wind hardened raindrops stung her hand as she fought to close the window covering. Once everything was closed, Jenna sat down at the table and listened to the rain pound against the roof. She was glad that her father and brothers had insisted on a wooden roof rather than thatch for Brennan’s and her new house. The cottage was a marriage gift from her parents. The couple was only there together for a couple of months before they were sent on separate scouting assignments. It was nights like this that she missed living at her parents’ house. Usually a storm brought her parents and brothers to the kitchen, they would listen to the wind and rain and talk. Jenna thought of times around the familiar kitchen table as she went back into her room. She stood in front of the mirror for a short time studying her reflection. Her green eyes were dark with sleep and her long auburn hair was falling out of its braid. She let her hair loose and brushed out the tangles. Her facial features were reminiscent of her mother’s. She had the same eyes and high cheekbones and as an elf, her ears came to the most delicate of points. Her physical structure though was much like her father’s and brothers’. She was well muscled and taller than most women of her community. Jenna was definitely of Warrior Caste stock. Her right bicep carried the dark tattoo that indicated that she was of the warrior and a member of the Moontree clan. As quickly as the storm had come up, it was gone. Jenna chanced opening the kitchen shutter. The rain had completely stopped. The only evidence of the storm was the litter of windblown leaves and storm pruned branches around the village. The tree branches of the forest just beyond the village hung low with the weight of the raindrops. Moonlight filtered through the limbs and made intricate patterns on the ground. She took a deep breath of fresh, newly cleaned air and noticed her parents’ chimney smoking. It was a sign that they were awake. She had grown up in a full house and was used to people being around her always. Jenna had arrived home before her new husband and their house felt empty. A hint of loneliness shaded her mood. She stood for a few moments and finally decided to give in to her urge to see them. She dressed swiftly and crossed the clearing to their house where she knocked quietly at the door. It opened to her father, Kiernan, dressed in a pair of plain brown breeches and a loose white shirt. "Jenna, I wondered if you would come," he said with a reassuring smile and stepped to the side to allow her in. She followed him through the house to the kitchen. At the table sat her brothers Aidan and Ronan. Her mother, Lark, came from behind her with a kettle. "Jenna!" her mother exclaimed merrily. "I did not know if you would come or not, being in your own house now." "I could not let a rain storm go by without coming to this table," Jenna proclaimed. "I was pleased when I saw smoke from your chimney. My house was a bit empty since Brennan has not yet returned." She said, taking her usual place at the table. “Did not his group leave before yours,” her father asked with a bit of concern. He knew that the commanders of the scouts tried to work the schedule so that all teams were a week apart in departure and arrival. Brennan should have returned before his wife. He decided not to panic his daughter just yet. “How did everything hold up in the storm?” “Very well, there were no leaks,” she said. “Good. I knew that the extra time on the roof would be an advantage,” he observed as he joined his children at the table. There was another knock at the door and then heavy boots sounded against the floorboards. Soon Nessan’s wet head appeared in the doorway. “Is there room for one more?” “Nessan, you are drenched! But we are glad you are here,” their mother said musically. "Go take off those soaked clothes.” "Got caught in the rain, did you?" Jenna teased her brother. Nessan nodded slightly, "I was just coming in with the hunting party when it began to pour. It was a good hunt though." He headed for the back room. “There should be plenty of meat until the crops come up.” “Good to hear,” their father commented. Lark set tea in front of everyone then sat down as well; “has there been any word from Brennan’s scouting party?” she asked Jenna. "No, and honestly I am concerned. His patrol usually does not take this long,” she paused for a moment then added reluctantly. “And I had a strange dream tonight." Jenna started. "A dream?" her mother responded with a glance to her husband.