Returning to Song and Sword for a while, until I decide on something else to torture you with and picking up from last week.
“What happened?” Pashevel’s voice was gentle as he took in the scene, noting her bruises and his back.
“She’s dying.” His voice was hoarse, the tone dead.
“No,” Marlia said. “By the will of Arithen, she will not die.”
Pashevel saw her starting a prayer for the power to heal, and he put his flute to his lips, playing a familiar song, a song to sanctify the area, to make the healing flow more strongly. It was a song that he had played often for her in the past few months.
Marlia’s eyes were closed and she seemed to glow as her hands hovered gently over the woman, finally resting lightly on her, oblivious to everything except the pain of the young woman before her and the presence of Arithen.
Pashevel: a simple Elven Bard — and the Crown Prince
Marlia: a Paladin of Arithen, the Elven God of Justice – seeking vengeance for the destruction of her village
Dakkas: heir to the Drow throne — if his father and elder half-brother don’t kill him first
Kashrya: raised among a tribe of nomadic Humans, she is unaware of her true heritage — or of the prophecy that made her mother an outcast
Their goal: build a bridge between the Elves and their outcast brethren, the Drow, reuniting them and undoing the damage caused in a time so far gone that history has become legend and legend has become myth.
But first, they have a problem to solve: how do you stop a war that hasn’t started?
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