Rise of the Last Dragon Rider - Chapter 024 - Elves in the forest

The female elf spat on the ground as she scowled and pulled the bowstring back more to aim the arrow at Kaen.

“You would be wise to tell us who you are and why you know that language!” she shouted as her male companion turned his head and whistled towards the woods.

Sighing, Kaen felt where Pammon was and knew he needed another minute before his backup would arrive.

“I am Kaen Marshell.  I am a dragon rider and on my way to the dwarven kingdom.”

“Lies!” she cried, motioning at Kaen with her bow.  “There are no young dragon riders.  You are barely wet behind the ears.”

Kaen watched as four more elves appeared from the woods, each with a bow out and an arrow ready to be drawn and fired.

“Would you be willing to wait a moment so that I can prove myself?  He will be here soon, and I would prefer him not to be upset if you all started attacking me.”

The woman stared at Kaen. A confused look was on her face.  Why would a man be so calm with so many arrows pointed at him?  The fact that he spoke the elvish tongue was problematic enough.  No elves would consider teaching a human their tongue unless they had a good reason.

“Thistle, look at him,” the male elf whispered as he glanced around the spot where Kaen was standing.  “No tracks, supplies that would have been difficult to carry this far, and no boat.  His attitude tells you he is telling the truth.”

Grunting, she shook her head and gazed at what her partner told her.

“There are no dragon riders except the old and cursed ones.  We both know the rumors we heard last year are just that.  Rumors.”

Kaen smiled at them as they stood arguing, and they both narrowed their eyes, wondering why he suddenly smiled.

Pammon’s roar echoed across the waters and the treetops, causing the elves to take a step back in shock at the noise.

“A dragon!” the male elf shouted as he quickly began to move back towards the treeline.

The female, Thistle, remained where she was, slightly lowering the bow some but staring at Kaen in disbelief.

“It’s true,” she muttered, seeing Kaen bob his head when he heard her.

Twenty seconds later, a massive shape emerged over the treeline and swooped down along the shore, turning sharply as Pammon showed himself, sending waves of water and dirt toward the shore and the elves from flapping his wings.

He glared at them and snarled, causing them to raise their bows toward him absently.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kaen shouted as the elves stepped back toward the trees.

Thistle began to slide backward, tripping over a branch and sending her arrow up into the sky, thankfully away from Pammon, as she fell onto her rear.

Pammon came and landed on the dirt near Kaen, sending a cloud of dust toward those still brave enough not to hide behind trees, while Kaen slowly moved toward the elf woman, sliding on her backside on the ground.

Behind Pammon was the setting sun, its light reflecting off the water and onto him, creating a majestic image of a bronze dragon silhouetted by the sun.

“We mean you no harm unless you attack us,” Kaen informed them.  “We had no idea you and your people were here.  We just stopped here so we could rest for the night.”

The woman stopped moving backward as Kaen got closer and held out his hand.

“How?” was all she could say as her mouth hung open, and she glanced at Pammon, who was eyeing her, his mouth slightly opened as he showed his teeth.

“It is a long story but one I would prefer not to share with you and your friends hiding from us.  I promise you that unless you mean me or Pammon harm, we will not hurt you.”

Kaen was still a few feet from her, holding out a hand to offer her to stand.  Thistle jumped up on her own, dusted herself off, and did her best to regain some composure.

“We… we would be honored to converse with a dragon rider,” she declared, trying to hide how many different octaves her voice had gone up and down.  “Rowan!  Bring us some food and water and fetch the others!”

The man who had been beside her hesitated a moment before moving, and when her orders finally settled in, he nodded and whistled a few times, directing those hiding in the woods.

She is lucky she did not shoot me.  I might have had to eat her.

Grinning, Kaen resisted the urge to laugh and turned and beckoned her to join him at his fire.

“They call you Thistle if I heard right?”

She nodded and slowly moved forward toward the fire, keeping an eye on Pammon, who was moving around to be near where Kaen would sit.

“Nice to meet you, Thistle.  Again, I am Kaen.  I promise you he won’t hurt you unless you shoot at him again.”

Even with the smile that Kaen was flashing and how his dragon had stopped baring his teeth, Thistle was struggling to move closer to the logs and fire that Kaen had.

I guess you really did scare them, Kaen informed Pammon as he sat down on the log he had been using.

They threatened you.  They pointed arrows at you!

And we both know that I was never in danger.  Unless that woman is better than me, we both know I would have been fine until you made it here.

Snorting, Pammon caused the woman to tense up again and watch him.

“Ignore him,” Kaen informed her as he bent over and pulled some dried meat from a pack. “He was not happy thinking I was in danger, but he is fine now.”

“If you say so.”

Thistle finally made it close enough to the fire, keeping a wide berth between her and Pammon.  A few minutes passed as she turned down Kaen’s offer of food.  The one she called Rowan arrived with six other elves who all stayed closer to the tree line.

“Would you two like to hear about Pammon and me, or would you both prefer to sit there, staring at the two of us in silence for a little longer?”

Rowan coughed and elbowed Thistle gently, and she nodded.

“Sorry, we are… caught off guard.  A new dragon rider, one who speaks the elves' language, is here in our forest.  None of us would have imagined these things when we set out this morning.”

Smiling, Kaen tossed a small log into the fire and glanced at Pammon, who lay down, resting his head near Kaen but closing his eyes.

“Well, let me share with you what has happened in the last few years, and then you can go from there.”

Putting the water skin down, Kaen watched the two of them as they absorbed all the news he shared with them.  The other six had gotten closer and were seated on the ground, legs crossed.

“We know of the black dragon rider and of Elies.  It pains us to know he is sick.  He had protected many in the years before,” Rowan stated as he put his hand to his chest.  “We, too, have seen increases in the orc and goblin forces.  We have had more incursions over the last few years but so far have kept them from gaining ground in our homes.”

Kaen nodded as he listened.  He had his map out and had shown them what he had drawn versus the old map he had.

“Where would you say the last few fights with them have been?”

Rowan moved over and glanced at both maps, noting the differences between them.

“Here and here,” he stated, pointing to two spots off to the east and south. “They have come in a few other areas, but those were smaller scouting parties.”

Kaen marked the two spots on both maps and blew a raspberry, as he thought, causing the eight to laugh and chuckle at that.  Grinning, he realized what he had done as he was lost in thought.

“Sorry, I did not mean to offend.”

Thistle waved her hand as she smiled.

“It is good for us to see that you are not…” she paused, trying to think of the word in common.  “Stick up?”

“I believe you mean stuck up.  Not uptight or someone who walks with a stick up their rear?”

Rowan started laughing, and Thistle’s face flushed a little bit as she bobbed her head.

“Yes.  Sorry, my use of common is not that great.  Not many speak it anymore in our village.  Even your elven is considered a dialect we don’t use.  We don’t hold onto every vowel as long.”

“I noticed but figured I would do my best.  Now, are you all ok with Pammon and me staying here for tonight?  I would offer to let you all stay with us unless you need to head back somewhere or patrol the woods.”

“Do you need us to keep watch for you?  We would be honored!” exclaimed Rowan as he stood up and began motioning to the six, who were almost immediately on their feet.

“I would not ask that of you,” Kaen stated as he stood up, holding his hand out to calm them down.  “Pammon can easily sense things that are happening around us even when sleeping.  I would prefer not to make you all give up your sleep if there was no need.”

One of the scouts behind them whistled and made some hand motions.  Rowan nodded and held up three fingers.  Four of the scouts gave a slight bow and rushed off into the woods.

“I have sent them to go looking for some food for your dragon.  It is the least we can offer since we pointed our weapons at him.  Our elder would not forgive us if we did not make some effort to repay that debt.”

When Rowan mentioned food, Pammon’s eyes opened up, and he lifted his head and grinned.

I like these wood elves.  Perhaps they finally understand the honor I am due.

Groaning, Kaen shook his head.

“Pammon says he would appreciate that.  Only a few, though, or I’m afraid he might get spoiled.”

Pammon leaned his head forward, bopping Kaen in the side and knocking him off the log while he began to thrum.

Kaen stood up, laughing, and rubbed Pammon’s head.  The elves joined in once they saw the two of them playing and laughing at some joke.

After Pammon and he settled down, Kaen noticed Thistle was glancing at his bow.

“Do you want to see this?” he asked as he picked it up and held it out toward her.

“That string.  Do you know where you got it from?”

Shaking his head, Kaen watched as she took the bow and examined the string that was wrapped around it, waiting to be drawn.

Rowan leaned over her and watched as she ran her fingers.

They mumbled something in their elvish tongue that he couldn’t catch as Thistle unwound the string from the wood.

“I believe the word is the same… a shimmering mare,” she stated as she held the string close to her eyes.  “Very rare to find.  Where did you get this from?”

“It was a gift from my father.”

Kaen stood there, wondering what the fuss was about it.  He had wondered before what made the bow so powerful, and how they acted confused him.

“A very special gift…” she murmured as she wrapped it back the way it had been and extended the bow to him.  “Tomorrow, could you spare a few hours to meet our elder? I think he would like to meet you and hear the story you told us.”

Taking his bow back, Kaen slowly nodded his head.  Getting a chance to meet the wood elves he had heard of but never imagined getting to meet was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, even if it put him a day behind.

“I would be honored.”

Smiling, Thistle motioned at one of the two who were still behind them, sitting on the ground.

“Go tell the elder that tomorrow we will bring a dragon rider to visit.”

The man jumped up and took off like a rabbit into the woods.

“Tomorrow, we will honor you and your dragon the way we should have the first time we met,” she declared with a slight bow.