Fate had been my constant companion since the day my silver magic made itself known. I’d barely been ten when I first stepped onto the silver planes. Maiela had come into her own considerable powers two days before, a fact that my twin sister had never let me forget. Since then, our magic grew as we Matured, until we became the powerful Fortune Elves we were today. Both of us had Seen this mysterious meeting several times, and I always thought it was strange that neither of us could See who we were meeting.
Now that we were here, though, the reason for the murky visions was evident. Fate was absolutely at work in leading us here. Why else would they bring us to an isolated home in the middle of the wilds of Ithenmyr, let alone one of a halfling? It was rare to find halflings in Ithenmyr, rarer still for them to be living in the middle of the woods sitting across the table from you with loaves of freshly baked bread and butter.
Ryllae’s hand brushed against mine, and she leaned toward me as our host bustled around serving slices of bread and pieces of soft white cheese.
“Have you met many halflings in your life, Daegal?” she asked softly.
“A few,” I murmured. “There’s Kysha, obviously. I once knew a Light Elf halfling whose mother was an Earth Elf, but she died.”
“Oh.” Ryllae’s finger laced through mine, and she frowned. “I’m sorry.”
As was I. Carthina had been a good friend for many years. By the time I had Seen High King Edgar’s plan to wipe out the Earth Elves, it had been too late. No one had been able to warn the Earth Elves of what was coming. The bastard had somehow hidden his plans, and when I Saw what was to come, his Winged Soldiers were already spreading through Ithenmyr, slaughtering the elves.
Bloody bodies had been all that remained at Carthina’s home. That summer day, Ithenmyr had run red with the blood of the Earth Elves. It was even more incredible that an Earth Elf sat across the table from me now, let alone the High Lady of Life.
Aileana caught me looking at her and she smirked, raising a brow before turning her attention back to Kysha, who was talking quietly.
Our host slid a cup of tea in front of me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Of course.” The halfling nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you all to arrive.”
His eyes glowed orange, which was the regular marker of a werewolf—not one of the deadly ones we had encountered a few days ago—but the silver glow woven into his aura spoke of his Fortune Elf lineage. He had been waiting for us, that much was clear from the moment he opened his door. He put up with Xander’s questions, seeming to understand our apprehension of trusting someone new.
The halfling seemed kind, but kindness only went so far. My sword was at my side, and Xander and Aileana’s weapons were within reach as well. None of us were especially used to trusting others… for good reason.
Our host slid into the last seat at the table, not hiding the fact that he was studying us intently. In return, I did the same. His hair, a few shades too dark to be called red, was pulled back in a high bun. His lengthy, thin face was tanned and freckled as though he had spent hours in the sun. Pointed ears and elongated canines spoke of his elven heritage, but it was the long nails that drew my attention.
Ever since my mother’s murder, I was wary of werewolves. Not that I thought the entire species was evil. Good and evil did not find a home in one breed or another—it was far more complex than that. However, in my experience, many werewolves were harsh.
The halfling was different, though. From the way he carried himself to the softness in his eyes, I could see that this male was disinclined to violence. Not only that, but he was utterly unlike any other werewolf I’ve ever met. It wasn’t just the fluidity of his appearance or the way he held himself. The elf had an air about him that I had never seen before. He wore a fur-lined taupe tunic belted around his waist and thick breeches that tapered at his feet, revealing bright purple woolen socks.
“I’ve been expecting you,” our host said, his voice soft but ringing with confidence as he brought his hands together and rested them on the table. “My name is Olwine. Welcome to my humble abode.”
One by one, we introduced ourselves. He listened intently, asking a few questions about our journey, but none of them were terribly prying.
Once the necessary introductions were done, Olwine smiled. “When I was young elf, barely past my Maturation, I Saw this day. For many years, I have remained in the forest, awaiting the darkness to befall Ithenmyr. Once it swept through my woods, a knowing filled me. I Saw you coming, and so, I waited.”
“You can see the darkness?” Aileana picked up another piece of cheese, her eyes trained on Olwine.
“I can feel it,” was his reply.
My eyes widened. I had never met anyone who couldfeelthe darkness.
Xander asked, “What do you mean?”
Olwine shrugged. “When I shift, my wolf is… different from most. I am a werewolf like my father’s people, but not. That is why my partner and I live apart from the rest of our pack.” He looked troubled as he picked at the rim of his cup. “When I am a wolf, I can sense things happening in the unseen realm. Darkness and light, disturbances of the balance… They all call out to me. Our pack found me troublesome, and they asked that I remain on my own.”
Ryllae frowned, and her crimson aura pulsed as she laced her fingers through mine. “That must have been very lonely,” she whispered.
“It was, for a time,” Olwine said. “Wolves are not meant to remain on their own. Luckily, Kydona has blessed me with a partner who loves me for who I truly am. He came with me, leaving our pack behind, and we live here together. We are two against the world.”
A quick glance around the cottage confirmed Olwine’s story. Multiple hooks hung on the walls and tucked under a worn cabinet by the front door were two pairs of boots.
“Where is he?” Ryllae asked.
Olwine sighed. “He’s in the south, near the border of Drahan.”