“…Why do I live the life I do? Whys is it I choose the life of a wanderer when I’ve had many a chance to stop and call somewhere ‘home’. Is it because I’m not meant to have a ‘home’? Or is it the road is my ‘home’ and Archanine my ‘family’? I’ve never truly knew my family, nor do I remember my home. I guess it’s all apart of the gods’ grand design. And though there are times I feel superior to one, I know in my mind and in my heart that I can never achieve their greatness…no matter how hard I would try to…”
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-From the journal of Archerion Fellonar.
Their hunt for the goblin raiders began to prove futile for their attack upon the elven city had left no proof of a goblin attack, nor had they left a trail to follow – not even a scent for Archanine to follow. As the sun had set upon them, the stubborn marksman refused to stop to for camp until they had picked up a trail or clue of some kind.
Canialia began to grow worried about him for, though she had only known him a short time, she had begun to grow attached to the young marksman and his panther. 'Why do I insist on following this human?' She thought to herself, looking over ahead to Archerion then back to her archers, then again back to the ground. 'What is it about him that seems to force me to follow him? I despise humans, but this one seems different. He seems unique among humans. Is it because…' She shook off the thought of anything, trying to accept him as a companion. She, again, looked up at Archerion and his panther companion wondering what he why he would persist on hunting at night when, obviously, the trail – if any at all - would be easier to find in the daylight, but she chose not to question him. She saw him draw his bow, and knew a fight was on its way…
“Master!” a goblin yelled to his leader. “We are being followed! A human and seven elves are following us!” The goblin’s leader looked at him with an evil gaze, as the weak scout backed away.
“I thought you slew all the elves in the city!” The fearsome goblin yelled.
“We did, my lord…it just-” The goblin never got to finish his sentence before his master’s sword slice through his neck.
“If what this scout said was true, should we not destroy them before they find the mines?” asked a goblin to the leader.
“No. We will let them follow us. If they truly have picked up our trail then they shall play right into our hands…”
Canialia slowly moved up next to Archerion trying to see whatever it is he sees. Before they could do anything, the archer in front of the cadre fell backwards gasping for air. Her throat was sliced. They turned around only to find another of the archers suffering from the same fate. Something was there, but they couldn’t see anything but the cadre and the two fallen archers.
Canialia slowly and carefully reached for her sword at her waist, only to reach to slide her bow off her arm, grab an arrow and shoot towards the darkness of the Senscitar forest. Archerion, too, grabbed his bow and an arrow, only aiming more carefully towards the archers. He stood there for, what seemed like, minutes on end, only to find the threat had past and whatever had attacked the archers has gone.
They decided to set up camp, only a small distance from the attack, and buried the archers where they had fallen – the trees to be their headstones. As the dim fire flickered on their faces, Archerion looked deep into the fire, as he always has.
“What do you think it was?” he asked, not averting his gaze.
“I don’t know,” she frowned. “A demon of some kind? Or perhaps something more?” She sighed and looked at him. “What do you think drove it away?”
“Your terrible aim, I’d venture to guess.” He looked at her with a smile. She scoffed and smiled back, resting her arm upon Archanine who was lying between them and purred in approval to her touch.
When you've betrayed all those about you, who will be there to have your back and not your head?