Forestlore Ch. 3: Jaledriel

a note on pronunciation: Anja- (AHN-ya)

Eliant- (eh-LIE-ent)

Ionquin- (ee-ON-quin)

Sunia- (SOON-ee-uh)

Shirekhron- (SHIRE-crawn) [meaning the Forest King]

Faalshire- in the ancient Sunian language [meaning Great Forest]

Jaledriel- (GEL-ed-reh-el); Drie- (dray)

That's when the music was pierced by Anja's shrill scream, and an iron arrow whizzed past her head.

End of Chapter 2

3

"Down!" Anja screamed without hesitation. "DOWN!"

The power was evident now in her voice the way it had when she opened the very forest before her. Instantly, Celest obeyed, dropping down to her hands and knees and ducking her head.

There was rustling, then. Crunching of leaves and snapping of branches. Another whiz of an arrow, and Anja got to her feet. 

"Stop, don't shoot!" she pleaded. Or perhaps to some it would have sounded more like a command. 

It became quiet. Anja was panting, and Celest's breathing wasn't all too calm either. 

Trembling, Celest dared to inch her head up, turning her eyes to the scene. Just feet away from her young guide was a man, a soldier, tall and armed. He wore a brass-plated suit of armor, yet it seemed light when he moved and fit him easily. The material was darker than the usual stuff; maybe it wasn't brass at all. It was elegantly crafted with simple curved designs on the shoulders. On his back was a shield and quiver strapped over him, and on his waist was a belt of three knives and a longsword. His boots were tall and his dark hair was long-- coming about to the middle of his back. The only thing the girls couldn't see was his face, covered by a full helmet forged to match the design of the rest of his armor. 

The soldier had an arrow nocked and his bow drawn and ready, regardless of halting at Anja's word.

Anja inhaled. "Remove your helmet," she demanded firmly.

Slowly, the soldier did as he was told again. He reached up and took hold of his intricate helmet, lifting it and tucking it under his arm.

Celest stood now as she watched, her eyes fixed on the man.  She could see his face- surprisingly pale- but nowhere near the light complexion of her or Anja.  His eyes were a murky blue, like the color of shallow water.  His lips were thin and his brows dense; there was a slash on his cheek, relatively fresh.

To Celest's confusion, the soldier stared with a horrified look frozen on his face as he made eye-contact with Anja. What was more, he seemed to tremble at the sight of her.

"...My Lady..." he began slowly, then increasingly speeding up with nervousness, "I didn't know it was you, I swear it on Shirekhron himself! I saw your shadows, and I was instructed to attack any unusual sighting in the area--"

"Hush, soldier, you're hurting my head!" Anja shouted, putting out one of her fair hands to silence the man.

He quieted immediately, hesitantly making gestures away from the girl. "I am so sorry," he nearly whispered.

"What is your name?" Anja questioned calmly. 

"Jaledriel," replied the soldier, licking his lips. "Er, Drie. Whichever you...prefer, My Lady."

This terminology was confusing Celest to a point she could no longer ignore. "My Lady?" she repeated, looking towards Anja. "What does he mean?" More unanswered questions...what a surprise.

Jaledriel, or Drie, suddenly laughed very loudly. "As if you don't know--!"  He then stopped when he met eyes with Celest, an honest look of bewilderment on her face.  "Oh, by saints, you really don't know."

"There is much she doesn't know," breathed Anja. "She isn't from here."

"Well, none of us are..." Drie trailed off, his lips tightening and his pupils dilating. "Unless you mean to say..."

Anja ran her fingers through strands of her hair. "Soldier, please, keep quiet about this. I have much to explain. I had planned on taking her North--"

"I will help you!" Drie abruptly threw in. "You'll have places to show her and things to tell her. I can be your guard."

"Shouldn't you be following your Shirekhron's orders?" Anja mumbled under her breath.

Drie spit on the ground. "I've been told to watch this part of the Forest until the third morning. I was heading North, anyway. Besides, there hasn't exactly been much activity since Shirekhron's laws were set in place."

Yes, thought Anja. The laws practically imprisoning outsiders and locking away natives to 'protect' them. Shame all their entitlements to living were tossed out in the process.

Saints, she hated Shirekhron. Rightly so. He was, in fact, her sworn enemy.

"Let's discuss things," Anja folded her hands professionally. "Perhaps you can escort us. Now why, Jaledriel, are you heading North?"